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CoItunWa  ©ntbmttp 

LIBRARY 


GIVEN   BY 


O*^  .   V^jJxjuuoo 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

THE  MIND  OF  THE  DOUGHBOY 
BY  THE  DOUGHBOY  HIMSELF 


HOME— THEN   WHAT? 

THE  MIND  OF  THE   DOUGHBOY,  A.  E.  F. 


BY  THE   DOUGHBOY  HIMSELF 

COLLECTED  AND  ARRANGED  BY 

JAMES  LOUIS  SMALL 


WITH  FOREWORD  BY 

JOHN  KENDRICK  BANGS 


NEW  XEJr  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1920, 
BY  GEORGE  H.  DOR  AN  COMPANY 


O.    U;.     ~^h^^ 


JUM  '^  ^* 


c 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


FOREWORD 

One  of  the  questions  most  frequently  asked  of 
me  on  my  return  from  France  in  June,  1918,  was 
"What  is  the  American  boy  thinking  about  over 
there?"  My  stock  answer  to  this  was  that  any  man 
who  undertook  to  write  a  Baedeker  of  the  Dough- 
boy's Mind  must  in  the  very  nature  of  things  be  a 
human  Argus,  with  a  milUon  eyes,  and  every  eye  an 
X-ray  optic  at  that,  and  a  thousand  hands,  each 
hand  holding  a  pen  with  a  thousand  nibs.  There 
were  two  million  of  America's  sons  over  there  at 
that  time,  and  while  at  a  distance  of  fifty  yards  they 
all  looked  alike,  and  strode  along  with  the  same  con- 
fident step,  and  seemed  rather  to  be  cogs  in  a  great 
machine  than  separate  entities,  soldiering  had  not 
made  them  any  the  less  individual,  and  whatever 
had  been  done  to  them  by  their  training  to  reduce 
or  to  elevate  them  to  a  type,  physically  their  minds, 
in  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  get  at  them,  had  not  ceased 
to  function  in  the  good  old  independent  fashion. 
There  are  not  wanting  signs  that  a  large  number  of 
observers  who  viewed  it  from  coigns  of  vantage  four 
or  five  thousand  miles  away,  and  others  as  well  who 
studied  the  psychology  of  the  doughboy  through  the 
large  end  of  a  telescope,  have  conjured  up  a  beauti- 
ful vision  of  our  lads  rushing  to  the  Front  and  over 


vi  FOREWORD 


the  Top,  their  hearts  ringing  with  a  lyric  version  of 
the  Fourteen  Points  of  Peace,  and  other  highly  con- 
centrated forms  of  American  Ideals,  and  I  would  be 
the  last  person  in  the  world  to  slur  such  a  lovely 
idea;  but  it  is  the  sad  fact  that  at  the  time  the  boys 
were  so  gallantly  going  up  and  over,  the  Fourteen 
Points  had  not  been  promulgated,  and  that  their 
main  purpose  and  thought  was  to  do  a  particularly 
disagreeable  job  as  expeditiously  as  possible,  unham- 
pered by  historical  afterthoughts  or  purely  political 
abstractions.  Nor  could  I  find  any  traces  in  their 
minds,  their  hearts,  or  their  actions,  that  the  idea  of 
Peace  Without  Victory  possessed  any  particular  al- 
lure, but  on  the  contrary,  a  very  decided  predilec- 
tion for  the  beating  up  of  the  Hun  in  such  fashion 
that  the  world  would  be  assured  against  the  possi- 
bility of  ever  having  to  beat  him  up  again. 

There  were,  nevertheless,  certain  grooves  of 
thought  into  which  their  minds  seemed  to  run.  The 
first  had  to  do  with  Home,  and  they  thought  of  that 
in  terms  of  singular  beauty.  Some  of  them^  who 
had  never  before  given  much  thought  to  Home 
found  it  all  on  a  sudden  idealized,  and  they  glorified 
it  as  a  sort  of  Eden  from  which  they  had  been  tem- 
porarily exiled,  and  to  which  they  longed  to  return, 
but  not  until  they  had  further  glorified  it  by  doing 
well  the  thing  they  had  left  it  to  do.  As  an  in- 
stance of  this,  I  recall  an  encounter  I  had  with  an 
American  doughboy  early  one  morning  in  Paris.  I 
was  breakfasting  in  one  of  those  chain-restaurants 


FOREWORD  vii 


with  which  that  fair  city  is  afflicted,  when  this  glori- 
ous lad  came  into  my  life.  Finding  myself  some- 
what lonely,  I  hailed  him  and  invited  him  to  join 
me  in  a  poor,  but  reasonably  honest,  platter  of  in- 
different ham  and  ancient  eggs. .  Some  questioning 
elicited  from  him  the  information  that,  however  else 
Paris  might  impress  others,  in  his  judgment  it  was 
"a  shine."  He  considered  it  "a  phony  burg,"  and 
why  anybody  should  rave  over  it,  believe  him,  he 
couldn't  see.  Whereupon  I  tried  to  tell  him  of  some 
of  the  things  that  had  made  the  French  capital  a 
Mecca  of  delight  to  so  many  thousands  of  his  com- 
patriots, and  he  listened  with  entire  respect,  but  at 
the  end  of  my  disquisition  he  came  back  upon  me 
with 

"O  H — 11,  yes — Paris  is  all  right;  but,  d — n  it.  It 
Ain't  Fort  Wayne  !  I" 

It  was  a  pleasing  retort,  and  I  was  glad  of  it,  and 
in  a  very  essential  way,  for  in  varying  ways  it  was 
the  sentiment  of  most,  it  showed  that  while  in  all 
probability  the  bulk  of  our  sons  overseas  had  al- 
ways in  the  past  taken  their  own  country  for  granted, 
and  had  thought  little,  if  at  all,  on  the  values  of 
American  Citizenship,  they  were  coming  back  not 
better  Americans  perhaps,  but  more  devoted,  and 
more  appreciative  sons  of  America  than  they  had 
ever  been  before.  Which  is  one  of  the  benefits  that, 
like  a  lovely  flower  having  its  roots  in  mire,  have 
sprung  up  out  of  the  chaos  of  muddy,  bloody  ruin 
into  which  the  War  has  plunged  the  world. 


viii  FOREWORD 


Again,  they  were  thinking  a  lot  of  "Dad"  and 
"Mother,"  and  if  Dad  and  Mother  do  not  al- 
ready know  it  as  well  as  I  do,  who  saw  them  face 
to  face  with  temptations  of  an  insidiously  subtle  sort, 
let  me  record  here  that  the  vast  majority  of  them 
were  as  true  to  the  ideals  their  fathers  and  mothers 
had  set  up  for  them  as  though  Dad  and  Mother 
were  right  there  with  them  day  and  night.  I  have 
not  had  the  privilege  of  studying  at  close  range  other 
armies  in  the  past,  but  I  doubt  if  there  was  ever 
gathered  together  anywhere  in  the  world  a  body  of 
men  equal  in  Character  to  those  sons  of  ours  "over 
there."  They  not  only  seemed  obsessed  with  an  urge 
towards  the  strictest  kind  of  right  conduct,  but  to  it 
they  had  allied  a  stern  resolve  to  keep  themselves 
fit  for  the  business  in  hand,  and  I  have  had  them  tell 
me  in  specific  terms,  with  a  light  in  their  eyes  that 
showed  that  they  spoke  not  mere  words,  but  their 
very  souls,  that  they  would  rather  cut  off  their  right 
arms  than  by  indulgence  weaken  their  strength  at  a 
time  when  every  ounce  of  it  was  needed  to  carry 
not  only  on  but  through.  I  was  exceedingly  glad  to 
find  this  frame  of  mind  among  them  for  a  very  spe- 
cial reason.  An  official,  high  in  authority  in  the 
United  States  Government,  had  requested  me  in  my 
talks  to  the  American  Soldiers  to  warn  them  that 
"they  should  not  regard  going  to  France  as  the  op- 
portunity for  indulgences  in  Wine  and  Women," 
and  I  had  informed  him  that  I  would  not  insult 
American  youth  by  assuming  that  they  had  any  such 


FOREWORD  ix 


abominable  ideas  in  their  heads,  and  it  was  a  joy  to 
mc  when  I  got  to  France  to  find  that  my  estimate  of 
the  character  of  Young  America  was  as  true  as  his 
was  false,  my  only  regret  in  the  premises  being  that 
such  as  he  were  permitted  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  destinies  of  our  gallant  boys,  since  in  my 
judgment  the  merest  association  with  minds  of  his 
type  was  contaminating,  and  to  that  extent  demoral- 
ising. Fortunately,  his  contacts  with  the  active 
fighting  men  were  as  limited  as  his  knowledge  as  to 
their  intrinsic  character. 

A  third  thought  common  to  the  fighting  men  across 
the  sea  was  that  War  as  it  had  been  scientifically 
developed  was  a  "rotten  business,"  and  made  addi- 
tionally rotten  by  the  way  circumstances  compelled 
them  to  fight.  They  hated  the  mud  of  it,  and  they 
had  a  shame-faced  sort  of  feeling  that  the  heroism 
as  well  as  the  heroics  of  it  had  somehow  been  taken 
out  of  it  by  trench  warfare.  Long-distance  fighting 
with  an  invisible  foe  was  not  suited  to  the  tempera- 
ment of  the  American  boy.  He  is  not  by  nature 
quarrelsome,  but  he  loves  a  scrap.  A  Rough-House 
suits  him  to  a  Tee.  His  naturally  ardent  spirits 
made  the  long,  drear}',  underground  watching  and 
waiting,  with  its  dull,  dirty  monotony,  a  thing  that 
irked  his  soul.  If  those  that  I  met  and  talked  with 
could  have  had  their  way  there  would  have  been 
more  hand-work  and  less  machinery^  about  it.  They 
wanted  to  get  out  into  the  open  and  show  Hans  and 
Fritz  that  back  in  America  a  real  fight  was  a  face 


FOREWORD 


to  face  affair,  in  which  the  Party  of  the  First  Part 
was  a  Man  and  not  a  Mole,  who  wanted  nothing  so 
much  as  direct  individual  results  that  he  could  see 
with  his  own  eyes,  whether  the  Party  of  the  Second 
Part  was  a  bigger  man  than  he  or  not.  This  spirit 
was  as  strong  in  the  men  in  the  trenches  as  in  those 
in  the  air,  and  while  none  of  them  wished  to  die  un- 
necessarily, they  were  all  more  than  willing  to  take 
their  chances,  which  is  why  they  had  neither  to  be 
led  nor  to  be  driven  over  the  top,  and  which,  alas, 
is  also  why  many  of  them  in  their  eagerness  to  come 
to  close  quarters  with  their  enemy  ran  into  their  own 
barrage  fire,  and  died  from  shrapnel  sped  from  their 
own  guns. 

As  to  their  mental  attitude  toward  the  enemy,  I 
found  a  remarkable  sense  of  discrimination  among 
them  between  the  Man- and  the  Thing  That  the 
Man  Did.  There  was  no  hatred  of  the  German  as 
an  Individual,  but  a  deep-seated  abhorrence  of  the 
Hun's  acts  and  methods.  A  German  Prisoner,  save 
in  very  rare  and  highly  aggravated  cases,  was  sure 
to  be  treated  v/ith  more  consideration  by  his  Ameri- 
can Captor  than  he  ever  received  at  the  hands  of  his 
own  Officers,  which  may  account  for  the  surprising 
number  of  Kamerads  that  suddenly  developed  upon 
the  battle-fields  where  the  Americans  were  active.  It 
was  a  far  safer  place  for  a  Hun  behind  the  Ameri- 
can forces  than  in  front  of  them,  and,  despite  his 
somewhat  sluggish  mental  processes,  Fritz  was  not 
slow  to  appreciate  and  to  take  advantage  of  the 


FOREWORD  XI 


fact.  But  the  American  Soldier  had  no  softness  in 
him  in  action,  and  there  his  attitude  towards  the  foe 
was  perhaps  best  expressed  by  the  word  of  an  Amer- 
ican youth  I  encountered  in  Paris  during  one  of  his 
richly-earned  rest  periods.  The  last  time  I  had  seen 
that  particular  American  lad  was  in  an  American 
School  three  years  before  at  a  time  when  he  was  pre- 
paring for  College.  Here  in  Paris  I  found  him 
scarcely  less  youthful  in  spirit,  but  somewhat  hard- 
ened physically  by  his  strenuous  experience  in  the 
Air  Service.  He  wore  the  ribbon  of  the  Croix  de 
Guerre  upon  his  breast,  and  it  bore  two  palms,  which 
signified  that  he  had  brought  down  two  Huns  in 
action.  Considering  his  years,  I  thought  of  a  ques- 
tion that  had  often  arisen  in  my  own  mind,  and  I 
put  it  to  him  bluntly. 

"Son,"  said  I,  "how  does  a  youngster  like  you  feel 
when  he  realises  that  he  has  killed  a  couple  of  men^" 

"I  haven't,"  he  replied  simply.  'Tve  only 
smashed  a  couple  of  rattlesnakes." 

In  short,  when  the  fighting  was  on  in  full  force, 
In  those  dark  months  when  the  enemy  appeared  to 
be  Irresistible,  with  General  Foch  as  yet  an  unde- 
termined quantity,  with  the  British  in  Sir  Douglas 
Haig's  own  words,  "with  their  backs  against  the 
wall,"  and  the  Americans  as  yet  untried,  the  boys 
from  over  here  were  thinking  chiefly  of  their  Immi- 
nent job,  resolved  to  do  It  as  well  as  might  be,  to 
keep  themselves  fit,  and  dreaming  of  the  Homeland. 


xii  FOREWORD 


If  they  were  thinking  of  the  future  at  all,  it  was  the 
future  only  of  the  actual  to-morrow,  certainly  not 
beyond  it.  To-day  the  situation  is  different.  The 
War  is  over,  or  at  least  active  armed  hostilities  have 
ceased  until  the  Hun  with  his  active  Propaganda 
has  succeeded  in  disrupting  the  Allies,  and  once  more 
aligned  the  Armies  the  Armistice  permitted  to  es- 
cape, and  it  is  now  less  of  the  big  job  of  America  as  a 
whole  which  has  been  left  unfinished  than  their  own 
special  jobs  in  the  days  to  come  that  they  are  concern- 
ing themselves  with.  They  are  already  home  in  large 
numbers,  and  those  of  us  who  have  our  eyes  open 
realise  that  they  are  thinking  about  something  con- 
nected with  their  own  individual  future,  but  in  just 
what  terms  ?  In  a  way,  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  little 
volume  to  point  that  out.  It  was  my  privilege  in 
my  visit  to  France  this  year,  in  May,  June  and  July, 
to  come  into  a  somewhat  personal  relation  with  many 
of  them,  largely  through  the  medium  of  The  Com- 
rades IN  Service  that  splendid  instrument  of 
Morale  Preservation,  which  in  the  difficult  days  fol- 
lowin^:  the  Armistice  rendered  invaluable  service  in 
upholding  the  Hold  Together  spirit  of  our  lads  not 
now  fighting  but  marking  time.  And  here  let  me  di- 
gress for  a  moment  to  speak  of  the  Comrades.  The 
Comrades  in  Service  movement — for  it  has  been  a 
movement  rather  than  an  organisation  throughout 
its  brief  history — furnishes  a  fine  illustration  of  the 
adaptability  of  the  real  American  spirit.  It  owes 
its  origin  to  Prof.  O.  D.  Foster,  of  Chicago,  who. 


FOREWORD  xiii 


in  his  service  at  the  front  and  in  the  S.O.S.,  had 
come  to  feel  very  strongly  that  now  was  the  ap- 
pointed time  to  utilise  and  so  far  as  possible  to  per- 
petuate those  great  unifying  influences  which  had 
been  bom  of  the  war  and  without  which  Amer- 
ica never  could  have  played  its  wonderful  part  in 
the  liberation  of  the  world.  His  contact  with  the 
men  of  the  A.E.F.  had  convinced  him  of  three  things : 
first,  that  every  American  is  an  idealist ;  second,  that 
no  amount  of  military  training  would  destroy  his 
disposition  to  do  things  for  himself  in  his  own  way 
instead  of  merely  leaving  it  all  to  some  one  in  Wash- 
ington or  at  G.H.Q. ;  and,  third,  that  in  spite  of  his 
intense  individualism,  he  was  a  friendly  person,  not 
caring  very  much  as  to  the  creed,  politics  or  perma- 
nent residence  of  his  neighbour  in  arms  but  demand- 
ing chiefly  that  he  be  a  "regular  fellow,"  willing  to 
share  his  last  blanket  or  his  last  cigarette  with  his 
mates. 

With  these  things  in  mind,  Dr.  Foster  started  his 
first  Comrades  in  Service  Company  Club  at  Gievres, 
France,  adopting  a  name  given  to  a  similar  organi- 
sation he  had  directed  while  Y.M.C.A.  secretary  at 
Camp  Custer,  Illinois.  The  men  responded  enthu- 
siastically to  the  suggestion  that  they  organise  them- 
selves (rather  than  be  organised)  into  a  club  officered 
by  themselves,  choosing  and  promoting  their  own 
activities  and  filled  with  the  spirit  which  the  name 
implied.  Encouraged  by  this  success,  and  seeing  the 
great  need  and  opportunity  presented  after  the  sign- 


xiv  FOREWORD 


ing  of  the  Armistice,  Dr.  Foster  made  bold  to  out- 
line his  plan  to  Bishop  Charles  H.  Brent,  Senior 
Chaplain,  G.H.O.,  and  to  Mr.  E.  C.  Carter,  Chief 
Secretary  of  the  Y.M.C.A.;  Mr.  E.  L.  Hearn,  Chair- 
man Overseas  Commission,  Knights  of  Columbus; 
Rabbi  H.  G.  Enelow,  Director  Jewish  Welfare 
Board,  and  Col.  W.  S.  Barker,  Commander  of  the 
Salvation  Army.  As  a  result  of  these  conferences,  an 
agreement  was  made  providing  for  the  fullest  co-op- 
eration between  the  different  agencies  represented 
with  a  view  to  presenting  and  promoting  the  Move- 
ment among  the  officers  and  enlisted  men  of  the 
A.E.F.  At  a  great  mass  meeting  in  the  Palais  de 
Glace  in  Paris,  January  12,  1919,  attended  by  Presi- 
dent Wilson  and  over  5,000  members  of  the  A.E.F., 
the  project  was  formally  launched  and  at  once  heart- 
ily endorsed  by  the  representative  gathering. 

Quarters  were  first  secured  at  the  Religious  Work 
Department  of  the  Y.M.C.A.,  but  very  soon  these 
proved  inadequate,  and  Chaplain  Edwin  F.  Lee, 
U.  S.  Army,  personal  representative  of  Bishop  Brent, 
was  installed  in  offices  in  Paris  furnished  by  the 
Army  and  a  personnel  provided  by  the  Army  and 
Welfare  organisations  began  to  be  built  up.  In  the 
carrying  out  of  the  plan,  the  Army  furnished  Chap- 
lains and  other  officers  and  enlisted  men,  quarters, 
office  equipment  and  supplies  and  printed  an  official 
handbook.  The  Welfare  Organisations  provided 
funds  and  personnel,  together  with  use  of  huts  and 
other  facilities.    Publicity  was  given  through  the  is- 


FOREWORD  XV 


suance  of  a  bi-weekly  bulletin,  of  which  nearly  a 
million  copies  have  been  printed  and  distributed. 
Several  booklets,  chief  among  which  were  Professor 
Soares'  book  on  "Old  Testament  Studies  in  Comrade- 
ship," Malcolm  Dana's  "The  War  in  Terms  of  Com- 
radeship," and  Professor  Collier's  "A  New  World 
in  the  Making,"  and  a  large  amount  of  miscellaneous 
literature  were  also  distributed  in  large  quantities. 

The  activities  favored  and  promoted  by  the  men 
in  the  Company  Clubs  varied  all  the  way  from  a  non- 
sectarian  Bible  class  or  a  personal  purity  propaganda 
to  a  Jazz  Band  minstrel  show  or  a  forensic  meet. 
Various  Welfare  agencies  had  before  this  time  done 
more  for  the  American  Army  than  was  ever  done  else- 
where for  any  group  of  similar  men.  But  here  was 
a  chance  for  the  men  to  do  something  for  themselves 
and  for  each  other,  and  to  do  it  in  their  own  way. 
The  special  interest  of  the  men  in  the  discussion  of 
public  questions  led  to  the  establishment  of  a  Forum 
department  to  provide  topics  for  discussion  and 
where  practicable  speakers  as  well.  In  addition,  at 
least  half  a  million  men  were  addressed  in  mass  meet- 
ings, called  for  the  purpose  of  preparing  the  minds 
of  the  soldiers  for  return  to  civilian  life,  the  motive 
being  furnished  in  the  motto,  "We  are  to  be  mus- 
tered out  of  America's  Army,  but  we  are  not  to  be 
mustered  out  of  America's  service." 

The  original  plan  called  for  the  formation  of  a 
veterans'  association  along  these  lines,  but  when  the 
American  Legion  was  organised  by  the  officers  and 


rvi  FOREWORD 


men  of  the  A.E.F.,  and  after  consultation  with  the 
Central  Council  of  Comrades  in  Service,  adopted  al- 
most in  its  entirety  the  platform  and  principles  of 
Comrades  in  Service,  it  was  thought  best  to  co-operate 
with  the  American  Legion  rather  than  to  attempt  to 
organise  a  rival  veterans'  association,  with  the  under- 
standing that  this  co-operation  would  continue  as 
long  as  the  American  Legion  should  be  conducted 
upon  that  basis,  and  that  the  Comrades  in  Service  as 
a  purely  military  organisation  among  the  men  of  the 
A.E.F.  should  cease  to  function  with  the  return  of 
the  A.E.F.  to  America. 

From  May  first  until  military  necessities  com- 
pelled a  cessation  of  activities  and  the  dissolution 
of  the  original  organisation  in  the  A.E.F.,  material 
assistance  has  been  given  the  Comrades  in  Service 
Movement  by  the  action  of  General  John  J.  Per- 
shing, Commander-in-Chief,  in  placing  at  the  disposal 
of  Comrades  in  Service  the  sum  of  over  100,000 
francs  given  by  the  Chicago  Tribune  to  be  used  in 
whatever  way  General  Pershing  thought  would  be  of 
greatest  benefit  to  the  soldiers.  In  announcing  his 
decision.  General  Pershing  said :  "I  have  decided  that 
this  generous  gift  can  be  expended  in  no  better  way 
than  by  assisting  the  Comrades  in  Service,  which  af- 
fects and  reaches  every  individual  member  of  the 
A.E.F."  General  Pershing  has  since  expressed  the 
desire  that  the  Movement  be  established  as  a  perma- 
nent feature  in  the  regular  army,  with  such  modifi- 
cations as  peace  conditions  may  require. 


FOREWORD  xvii 


In  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  this  suggestion,  a 
Continuation  Committee  has  been  organised  in  the 
U.S.A.  and  has  appointed  a  subcommittee,  of  which 
Dr.  Arthur  W.  Grose,  of  Rochester,  New  York,  is 
the  Chairman,  to  work  for  the  permanent  incorpora- 
tion of  the  principles  of  Comrades  in  Service  in  the 
army  and  navy  and  their  perpetuation  through  the 
American  Legion  and  Community  Service,  Incor- 
porated. 

With  disintegrating  and  demoralising  forces  at 
work  on  every  side,  in  the  days  of  the  great  recon- 
struction not  less  than  in  the  days  of  the  Great  War, 
there  is  need  for  the  unifying  and  genuinely  con- 
structive influence  of  that  unselfish  spirit  of  service 
which  has  characterised  those  Comrades  in  Arms 
who  upon  the  battle-fields  of  France  have  laid  the 
foundations  for  a  new  and  greater  America  in  a  new 
and  greater  world. 

In  pursuance  of  an  arrangement  with  this  organi- 
sation, I  was  permitted  access  to  our  men,  and  I 
found  them  thinking  hard  and  variously  of  several 
things,  many  of  them  lads  of  true  vision  wondering 
if  the  thing  they  had  come  over  to  do  had  really  been 
done  with  a  decisive  finality,  and  uneasily  sensing 
an  actual  loss  of  victory  in  the  fact  that  having  the 
enemy  bagged  they  had  been  compelled  by  the  Arm- 
istice to  let  him  escape ;  many  of  them  openly  hoping 
that  the  Peace  Treaty  would  not  be  accepted  by  Ger- 
many so  that  they  might  advance,  and  History  not 
have  to  record  a  failure  to  carry  through ;  but  all  of 


xviii  FOREWORD 


them  thinking  loyally  and  lovingly  of  Home,  and 
both  its  relation  to  them  and  theirs  to  it.  They  were 
for  the  most  part  like  a  cast  of  actors  in  a  great  drama 
approaching  its  final  curtain  wondering  what  their 
next  role  was  to  be.  In  the  occupied  territory  of 
Germany  they  were  still  close  enough  to  their  po- 
tential enemies  to  be  thinking  primarily  of  them,  and 
their  unsatisfied  need  for  further  discipline ;  but  else- 
where, as  I  saw  them  in  France,  America  was  the 
burden  .of  their  thoughts.  To  concrete  their  ideas 
definitively  was  of  course  impossible,  and  it  was  here 
that  Comrades  in  Service,  in  my  judgment,  ren- 
dered a  signal  service  not  only  to  the  men  them- 
selves, but  to  those  of  us  at  home  as  well  who  seek 
a  leading  insight  into  the  innermost  recesses  of  the 
soldier  mind.  In  May,  1919,  to  stimulate  self-ex- 
pression among  the  men,  at  the  suggestion  of  Capt. 
Leon  Schwarz,  U.  S.  Army,  three  prizes  were  of- 
fered of  500,  250,  and  100  francs,  respectively,  for 
the  three  best  essays  on  the  topic,  "Home — Then 
What?"  the  subject  having  been  selected  by  Chap- 
lain H.  C.  Fraser,  U.  S.  Army.  Although  only  a 
brief  time  could  be  given  for  the  writing  of  these 
papers  owing  to  the  rapid  movement  of  our  troops 
to  America,  several  hundred  were  sent  in  to  the 
Judges,  representatives  of  the  Paris  editions  of  the 
New  York  Herald^  the  Chicago  Tribune^  and  the 
London  Daily  Mail.  The  essays  here  presented  have 
been  selected  from  these,  and  as  a  whole,  perhaps, 
present  the  best  symposium  of  soldier  thought  in  ex- 


FOREWORD  xix 


istence  to-day.  Indeed,  to  me  they  are  more  than 
that,  for  as  I  read  them  over  and  over  again,  I  seem 
to  glimpse  not  only  the  minds  of  our  boys,  but  also 
to  find  in  them  a  wonderful  revelation  of  the  Soul 
of  our  New  America,  bom  in  the  muck  and  mire  of 
War,  and  bred  in  the  blood  of  an  unselfish  devotion 
to  the  highest  ideals  of  Service. 

John  Kendrick  Bangs. 

Ogunquit,  Maine ^  September  30,  1919. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Prize  Essays 

First  Prize:  Marcelle  H.  Wallenstein     .     .     25 

Second  Prize:  Joshua  B.  Lee 32 

Third  Prize  :  Geo.  F.  Hudson 40 

Selected    Essays 46 

Selected     Extracts 220 


HOME— THEN    WHAT? 


L'ENVOI 

The  nights  we  spent  where  the  Bochc  flares  lent 

Their  red  to  the  moonlit  sky 
Are  now  forgot,  and  another  spot 

Is  luring  our  footsteps  nigh; 
The  hard  heart  thrills,  for  the  rookie  drilli 

Are  things  of  a  soldier  past, 
And  gleams  of  home  from  across  the  foam 

Are  calling  us  all  at  last. 

When  rifles  rust  and  the  dingy  dust 

Collects  on  the  I.  D.  R., 
Our  thoughts  will  grope  for  the  periscope 

With  visions  of  fields  afar  : 
Of  parts  we  played  and  of  pals  we  made 

That  drift  through  a  golden  dream 
That  waits  beyond  with  the  halcyon 

When  memory  reigns  supreme. 

J.  P.  C.  in  the  last  number  of 

The  Stars  and  Stripes 

June  13th,  1919. 


HOME— THEN  WHAT? 


FIRST  PRIZE 

Marcelle  H.  Wallenstein, 

Pvt.  1  c.  104th  Aerial  Photo  Section  A.E.F., 
Weissenthurm,   Germany. 
Home  Address:  416  N.  3rd  St., 

Atchison,  Kansas. 

Come  September — the  promises  of  Congress  bear- 
ing fruit — and  the  A.  E.  F.  will  be  a  memory.  The 
first  goal  is  home;  the  Yank  in  Europe  must  trade 
his  o.  d.  for  mufti  before  whatever  ideas  and  ideals 
he  has  accumulated  become  correlated  and  codified. 
Then,  living  under  conditions  that  make  for  freer 
self-expression,  his  theories  and  gropings  should  find 
their  way  to  the  surface.  Assimilation  into  the  life 
of  his  homeland  will  lie  in  the  conflict  between  his 
changed  attitude  and  whatever  conditions  there  are 
to  oppose  it.  Events  at  home  already  presage  such 
a  conflict. 

The  veteran  will  hop  into  politics  much  as  he 

went  for  enemy  machine  gun  nests,  or  followed  the 

25 


26  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

barrage  of  his  artillery,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  with 
as  clear  a  head.  Which  does  not  mean  that  every 
buck  private  who  crossed  the  Atlantic  has  aspira- 
tions for  Congress,  nor  does  it  follow  that  he  will 
take  to  the  chautauqua  platform  or  the  soap  box 
and  proceed  to  howl  himself  into  immediate  dis- 
favour. Not  that.  Still  he  is  going  into  politics 
with  an  exploring  forefinger,  poking  any  number 
of  holes  into  flimsy  half  measures,  stripping  away 
camouflage;  prodding  certain  individuals  farther 
than  pre-election  promises.  This  time  and  the  next 
will  find  him  looking  under  the  band  of  the  cam- 
paign cigar,  and  trying  to  do  the  same  in  regard 
to  what  lies  under  the  hats  of  the  men  who  want 
to  represent  him  at  Washington,  at  his  state  capital, 
and  even  in  the  council  chambers  of  his  home  town. 
Certainly  the  man  home  from  Europe  will  inject 
the  prophylaxis  against  the  germ  of  any  national 
disease  resembling,  in  its  slightest  symptom,  Prus- 
sianism:  he  must  do  this,  else  his  dreams  will  be 
made  hideous  by  the  fear  that  his  buddies  who  lie 
in  the  rest  camps  on  the  Vesle,  the  Mame  and  the 
Meuse,  died  for  something  hollow  and  vain.  Just 
as  surely  must  he  refrain  from  throwing  his  influ- 
ence into  the  pan  weighted  by  that  other  extremist — 
the  Bolshevik — and  it  will  not  be  the  man  who  car- 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  %1 

ried  on  in  France  until  the  day  the  armistice  was 
signed,  who  will  haul  up  the  scarlet  banner  over  our 
county  court  houses.  There  has  been  violence 
enough  for  him  and  his  for  generations  to  come;  he 
has  seen  enough  of  his  own  kind  fall  before  the 
agents  of  sudden  death. 

Having  lived  in  Europe;  being  given  an  oppor- 
tunity to  compare  the  conditions  of  life  in  his  own 
country  with  those  of  two,  and  in  some  cases,  three 
and  four  foreign  nations,  there  has  come  to  him  a 
realisation  of  the  preciousness  of  American  citizen- 
ship, and  he  will  be  the  last  to  wish  it  fouled  by  the 
backwash  of  Europe's  dissatisfied  peoples.  The  cir- 
cle about  the  stove  under  the  leaky  barrack  roof  has 
expressed  itself  quite  clearly  on  the  immigration 
problem  more  than  once  since  last  November.  There 
now  exists  the  feeling  that  the  equal  rights  of  Amer- 
ica must  not  be  handed  to  any  and  all,  regardless 
of  character  and  fitness,  who  after  a  too  brief  period 
of  residence,  express  a  desire  to  share  in  American 
benefits.  So,  as  his  rights  as  an  American  are  dear 
to  him,  the  soldier  who  represented  his  people  in 
France,  will  have  little  toleration  for  or  patience 
with  the  destructive  radical,  and  will  oppose  him; 
just  as  he  will  oppose,  with  all  his  power,  the  com- 
ing to  the  United  States  of  subjects  of  the  ex-Kaiser, 


J?8  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

and  after  a  period  insufficient  to  deprussianise  them, 
voting  for  a  President  of  the  nation. 

For  the  next  few  years,  at  least,  it  is  felt  that 
the  nations  of  the  eastern  hemisphere  should  be  al- 
lowed to  shape  their  own  courses,  and,  that  after  the 
conclusion  of  a  satisfactory  peace,  the  mingling  by 
America  in  European  and  Asiatic  affairs  should  be 
accomplished  by  the  most  cautious  and  conservative 
methods.  Coupled  with  this  is  the  belief  that  it  is 
folly  to  undertake  a  housecleaning  of  the  entire 
world  when  there  is  so  much  to  be  swept  from  our 
own  doorstep. 

Whatever  their  sentiments  on  coming  to  France, 
Privates  Schmidt,  Steffansky,  Merillo,  O'Hara, 
Pappas  and  Jansen  must  each  feel,  as  the  transport 
bears  him  once  again  in  sight  of  the  statue  in  New 
York  harbour,  that  she  is  the  shining  image  of  his 
own  sweetheart,  always  to  be  guarded  and  protected. 

The  question  of  the  soldier's  job  is  a  pressing  one; 
mostly  he  wants  his  old  one  back  again,  but  if  that 
is  not  as  good  as  he  believes  himself  capable  of 
holding,  then  he  will  have  a  better  one,  and  to  get  it 
and  keep  it  he  is  willing  and  eager  to  prove  himself 
able.  For  some  endeavours  he  is  better  equipped 
mentally  and  even  technically  than  when  he  put  on 
the  uniform.   The  superiority  of  his  people  in  many 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  «9 

accomplishments  remains  uppermost  in  his  mind;  he 
scoms  certain  antiquated  methods  of  Europe,  but 
things  he  has  seen  have  left  their  mark.  If  of  the 
agricultural  bent  the  Yank  is  returning  home  with  a 
new  idea  about  that  three-acre  strip,  which  since  his 
birth  has  yielded  little  save  a  mixed  crop  of  mullen 
weed  and  cocklebur.  And  he  knows  now  what  berry 
vines  and  certain  small  vegetables  will  do  on  the 
stony  hillside  facing  the  creek,  once  the  stones  are 
removed  and  the  earth  properly  manured.  For  he 
has  seen  what  Jacques  Bonhomme  and  his  husky 
wife  can  do  with  a  patch  of  soil  hardly  sufficient 
for  a  self  respecting  back  yard  in  the  States;  and 
he  has  seen  the  up-and-down  vineyards  of  the 
Rhine.  If  he  has  no  farm  to  go  to,  and  still  wants 
to  try  conclusions  in  that  line,  he  intends  to  combine 
Yankee  ingenuity  and  pep  with  European  thorough- 
ness and  kick  a  perfectly  good  living  out  of  the 
acres  open  to  homesteaders. 

If  some  branch  of  commercial  enterprises  en- 
grosses him  he  fairly  itches  to  get  home,  having  once 
seen  what  Europe  needs  and  wants,  and  the  idea  of 
getting  there  first,  and  all  the  other  plans  of  a  busi- 
ness scrap  bubble  within  him  like  wine. 

Everywhere  the  American  soldier  has  gone,  since 
the  first  of  the  expeditionary  forces  came  over,  Euro- 


30  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

peans  have  remarked  on  his  attitude  towards  women. 
There  were  times  when  men  of  the  Allied  armies 
laughed — always  discreetly,  be  it  remarked — ^be- 
cause the  Yank,  a  man  who  would  fight  with  his 
two  doubled  fists,  and  sometimes  drank  more  cognac 
than  was  good  for  him,  kept  the  other  sex  on  a 
pedestal  and  was  content  to  elevate  his  eyes  when 
he  addressed  its  members.  The  pedestal  of  Ameri- 
can womanhood  will  not  be  removed  because  of 
what  the  American  enlisted  man  has  seen  in  other 
countries.  The  Yank  wants  neither  a  beast  of 
burden  nor  a  brood  mare  of  his  woman,  and  existing 
conditions  at  home  suit  him  beautifully. 

He  has  seen  little  towns  in  France  with  boxed 
trees  before  the  cafes,  and  always  a  statue  of  some 
dead  dignitary  or  other,  or  perhaps  merely  a  bronze 
cast  of  a  purely  mythological  character,  and  he  won- 
ders if  they  can't  do  that  sort  of  thing  at  home.  Also 
he  has  ridden  over  the  white  hard  roads  and  marvels 
that  his  progressive  neighbours  did  not  build  high- 
ways as  good  long  ago.  Perhaps  there  will  be  fewer 
complaints  about  tax  levies  for  worthwhile  improve- 
ments after  the  last  Yank  is  back  in  civies. 

Then  there's  the  matter  of  food — not  army  chow 
— but  the  meals  he  ate  in  the  leave  centres,  or  some 
obscure  town  while  on  convoy,  or  travelling  on  one 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  31 

of  the  endless  trips  an  army  outfit  is  always  making; 
or  perhaps  when  he  was  a.w.o.l.  It  was  always  well 
cooked  and  cleverly  served,  no  matter  how  little  of 
it  there  was.  So  he  will  not  be  satisfied  with  the 
blotting  paper  variety  of  pie  crust  and  fried-to- 
death  steak  which  he  took  as  a  matter  of  course  from 
the  lunch  counters  in  the  old  days.  And  lastly,  while 
he  is  for  getting  things  done  and  over  with,  his  days 
off  in  the  leave  areas  have  brought  him  to  see  how 
much  enjoyment  the  European  takes  from  his  leisure 
hours,  and  this  latter  affair,  which  involves  checking 
the  breakneck  speed  of  American  everyday  life, 
promises  something  interesting,  if  not  effectual. 

Such  are  impressions  as  expressed  by  those  in 
many  branches  of  the  service,  in  barrack  and  billet, 
from  Brest  to  Coblenz.  Summarised,  perhaps,  they 
might  constitute  something  not  so  entirely  different 
from  the  oath  that  the  Athenian  youth  swore  upon 
his  assumption  of  citizenship.  Ask  the  average 
Yank  about  the  Ephebic  oath  and  he  will  reply  he 
knows  nothing  of  it  and  cares  less.  Still,  the  gist  of 
it  lies  in  the  back  of  his  head  whether  or  not  he 
can  give  it  definition. 


SECOND  PRIZE 

Joshua  B.  Lee, 

Private  Base  Hospital  43, 
A.P.O.  713A. 
Home  Address:  Norman,  Oklahoma. 

It  is  as  noble  to  live  for  one's  country  as  to  die 
for  it.  There  are  those  who  merely  live  in  their  coun- 
try, others  who  live  on  their  country,  and  still  others 
who  live  against  their  country,  but  the  patriot  lives 
or  dies  for  his  country.  Thousands  have  died  for 
America  but  millions  are  left  to  live  for  her.  Will 
those  millions  live  as  heroically  for  her  as  those 
thousands  died  for  her*? 

The  stumps  that  stand  in  a  field  are  useless.  They 
do  not  produce  anything.  They  do  not  consume  any- 
thing. They  just  sit  there  and  spoil  the  field  and 
aggravate  the  ploughman.  They  do  not  harm  any- 
thing, they  are  just  there,  obnoxious  things.  The 
field  were  better  if  they  were  rooted  up  and  thrown 
out.  What  would  a  field  of  nothing  but  stumps  be 
worth  ?  There  are  human  stumps.  They  take  no  part 
in  community  activities,  they  take  no  part  in  the 
Government,  they  never  vote,  they  just  live  in  their 

32 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  83 

country.  But  the  ex-soldier  will  be  a  vital  part  of 
his  government  because  he  has  learned  that  his  gov- 
ernment needs  him  no  less  than  he  needs  his  govern- 
ment. Men  who  offered  their  blood  for  their  coun- 
try in  time  of  war  manifested  an  interest  that  will 
not  wane  with  the  signing  of  peace. 

Weeds  are  worse  than  stumps  for  they  not  only 
occupy  space  where  grain  might  grow,  but  they  are 
harmful  to  the  field  for  they  sap  the  strength  from 
the  soil.  The  man  who  never  produces  but  always 
consumes  is  a  human  weed,  be  he  rich  or  poor,  high- 
brow or  bum,  if  he  does  not  work  he  lives  on  his 
country.  If  there  are  soldiers  who  think  because  of 
their  service  they  should  never  have  to  do  another 
day's  work  they  should  be  quickly  disillusioned. 
What  we  have  done  was  our  duty.  The  exoneration 
of  America  was  our  reward.  As  a  bonus  we  have 
been  accredited  the  place  of  hero  in  the  hearts  of 
our  countrymen;  and  we  are  grateful,  and  it  does 
not  follow  the  lines  of  logical  reasoning  to  suppose 
that  the  discharged  soldier  will  join  the  idlers  and 
become  a  burden  to  the  country  he  fought  for. 

Johnson  grass  is  worse  than  stumps  or  weeds.  It 
sends  its  roots  deep  into  the  field,  sapping  the 
strength  and  choking  out  the  grain.  But  worse  than 
that,  like  a  contagious  disease  it  spreads  so  rapidly 


84  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

I 

that  it  requires  much  labour  and  several  attempts 
to  destroy  it.  One  rootlet  can,  in  an  incredibly  short 
time,  sod  the  whole  field.  There  is  a  class  of  people 
who  bear  a  striking  similarity  to  this  grass.  Their 
propaganda  spreads  rapidly  and  is  difficult  to  up- 
root. The  American  soldiers  in  France  have  watched 
the  Bolsheviki  in  Russia  with  indignation,  and  will 
show  less  tolerance  for  the  Bolsheviki  in  America. 

When  three  millions  of  men  are  discharged  from 
the  army  and  feel  the  freedom  of  civilian  law  as 
compared  with  the  stern  military  regulations,  it 
would  naturally  be  supposed  that  so  sudden  a  transi- 
tion would  be  accompanied  by  the  inclination  to 
overenjoy  the  new  freedom.  But  we  have  realised 
that  America  will  be  to  a  large  extent  what  the  men 
who  wore  the  O.D.  make  it.  Therefore,  after  hav- 
ing fought  for  law  and  order,  it  would  be  knocking 
the  bottom  out  of  our  own  mess-kit  to  return  to 
civilian  life  to  raise  hell.  Is  there  a  soldier  who 
after  seeing  the  army  loves  the  mob,  or  after  know- 
ing order  enjoys  chaos? 

From  the  vantage  point  of  soldiers  we  have  had 
a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  nations  of  the  earth.  We 
have  had  a  panoramic  view  of  Europe  from  Russia 
to  Italy  and  the  more  we  see  of  the  world  the 
better  we  love  America.    Regardless  of  what  our 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  35 

p— — ■  _  — ^ 

politics  have  been  in  the  past  our  votes  in  the  future 
will  be  controlled  by  one  policy — America  first.  But 
let  no  one  deceive  himself,  for  every  man  who  says, 
"noble  heroes"  and  waves  a  flag  need  not  expect  our 
vote.  We  know  what  true  patriotism  is,  we  know 
what  love  of  country  means.  We  have  fought  for 
America  and  now  do  not  propose  to  live  against  her* 

While  soldiering  our  blood  has  reddened,  our 
muscles  have  hardened:  The  tooth-brush,  the  daily 
drill,  the  regular  meals,  the  smooth  shave,  the  clean 
shirt,  the  daily  bath,  the  easy  footwear,  have  all 
played  their  part.  We  are  heavier,  we  are  taller,  we 
are  stronger,  and  returning,  we  will  infuse  the  iron 
of  our  blood  into  the  nation  and  give  her  vigour. 

We  learned  that  filth  and  disease  are  the  greatest 
enemies  to  mortal  men.  We  know  the  importance  of 
ventilation  and  drainage.  We  prefer  the  "pup  tent" 
to  the  stuffy  tenement  cell.  We  are  returning  to 
practice  what  we  have  learned.  As  U.  S.  troops 
entered  hundreds  of  French  villages  and  cleaned 
them  up  just  so  will  discharged  soldiers  return  to 
every  corner  of  America  and  apply  the  laws  of 
sanitation. 

Not  only  that  but  we  have  become  acquainted 
with  ourselves.  The  lad  from  the  North  was  the  pal 
of  the  lad  from  the  South,  the  chap  from  San  Fran- 


S6  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

Cisco  buddied  with  the  boy  from  New  York.  Our 
world  enlarged  as  we  came  to  know  each  other. 
Acquaintance  meant  friendship,  and  what  will  this 
friendship  mean  to  America  when  we  return '?  There 
will  be  a  cross-firing  of  friendly  letters  such  as 
never  happened  before.  New  bonds  will  draw  us 
together,  new  interstate  commerce  will  arise  and  the 
fabrics  of  the  nation  will  be  strengthened. 

Furthermore  we  felt  our  world  broaden  as  we 
saw  the  hills  of  Ireland  and  Scotland,  as  we  set  foot 
for  the  first  time  on  European  soil,  as  we  gradually 
learned  their  languages,  their  customs,  their  history. 
We  have  learned  economy  from  the  Frenchman,  we 
have  learned  industry  from  the  German,  we  have 
learned  mechanical,  electrical  and  civil  engineering 
from  experience.  America  shall  have  the  benefit  of 
our  knowledge. 

Better  yet  we  have  learned  where  happiness  is. 
We  never  knew  how  to  appreciate  mother's  cooking 
until  we  lived  on  corn  willie  and  hardtack.  We  did 
not  know  how  to  appreciate  our  homes  until  we  had 
lived  in  French  attics.  We  know  now  that  the 
American  girl  is  the  queen  of  the  universe. 

But  best  of  all  we  found  out  how  much  we  love 
America.  Now  that  we  have  measured  our  govern- 
ment with  the  rest  of  the  world  we  will  make  better 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  37 

citizens  for  we  return  more  than  satisfied.  We  hard- 
ly realised  before  just  what  our  government  meant 
to  us  but  now  we  know. 

Ask  us,  then,  what  we  will  do  when  we  get  home? 
We  will  live  for  America.  At  the  call  to  arms  men 
dropped  all  other  business,  but  now  they  return  to 
take  it  up;  from  fighting  to  farming,  from  digging 
trenches  to  digging  ore,  from  hauling  munitions  to 
hauling  machinery,  from  filling  sand-bags  to  filling 
flour  sacks,  from  driving  tanks  to  driving  tractors, 
from  supply  office  to  mercantile  business,  from 
studying  maps  to  practising  law,  from  building  bar- 
racks to  building  homes. 

What  soldier,  at  some  time,  has  not  crawled  into 
his  bunk  and  pulled  the  blanket  up  over  his  head 
only  to  lie  there  wide  awake  and  dream  rosy  dreams 
of  the  future"?  In  the  recreation  rooms  the  magazine 
pages  that  have  pictures  of  cozy  corners  and  neat 
little  bungalows  are  thumbed  and  worn  to  tatters. 
Does  that  not  hint  as  to  the  general  trend  of  the 
A.  E.  F.  mind"?  In  the  rain  and  chill  of  the  winter 
months  the  soldier  warmed  himself  with  thoughts 
like  these :  he  pictured  himself  sitting  in  a  deep  com- 
fortable chair  before  a  cheerful  fireplace  where  the 
blaze  curled  up  the  chimney  and  the  shadows  danced 
on  the  floor,  a  bayonet,  a  mess-kit,  a  shell,  a  helmet 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


over  the  mantelpiece,  and  an  inquisitive  little  boy 
upon  his  knee  begging  to  be  told  the  story  of  the 
Great  World  War.  He  pictured  a  woman  singing  at 
the  piano,  and  a  kitchen  with  "beaucoup  eats,"  a 
kitchen  that  knew  no  limit,  a  kitchen  where  com 
willie  and  hardtack  should  not  enter. 

Where  is  the  soldier  whose  pulse  does  not  quicken 
at  thought  of  a  beautiful  little  cottage  with  morn- 
ing-glories trellised  over  the  window,  and  a  swing- 
ing seat  on  the  porch,  a  fresh  green  lawn  with 
pansies  along  the  walk  and  roses  in  the  garden,  a 
car  in  the  garage  and  a  girlish  little  somebody  to 
help  enjoy  it  all?  Whether  we  admit  it  or  not  we 
all  alike  have  dreamed  that  same  dream.  It  is  the 
propeller  of  our  lives.  It  was  that  dream  that  made 
us  proud  to  come  to  France.  It  was  going  over  that 
dream  in  our  minds  that  shortened  many  a  lonely 
hour  on  guard.  It  was  that  dream  that  turned  our 
faces  back  toward  the  West  the  day  the  armistice 
was  signed. 

WTiat  will  we  do  when  we  return?  We  will  make 
our  dreams  come  true.  We  will  bring  all  that  we 
have  learned  and  lay  it  at  America's  feet,  and  in  our 
vision  for  her  we  see  waving  fields  and  smiling  val- 
leys. We  see  a  landscape  dotted  with  prosperous 
homes  and  beautiful  cities,  a  landscape  checkered 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  39 

with  the  best  roads  that  modern  engineering  can 
construct.  We  see  the  arid  regions  irrigated  and  the 
swamps  drained  and  the  hitherto  untouched  re- 
sources pouring  their  quota  into  the  arteries  of  com- 
merce. We  see  America  as  glorious  in  peace  as  she 
has  been  in  war. 


THIRD  PRIZE 


Geo.  F.  Hudson, 

Pvt.  1  cl.  Co.  D,  3rd  Army  Military  Police  Bn. 
American  Expeditionary  Forces. 
Home  Address:  c/o  Merchants  Bank, 

Denver,  Colorado. 


In  the  calendar  of  a  soldier  in  the  American  Ex- 
peditionary Forces  all  things  date  from  the  point: 
"When  I  get  home."  This  will  be  the  brightest  of 
red-letter  days  in  his  life,  and  thoughts  of  his  home- 
coming have  always  been  linked  with  plans  for  the 
future  which  would  follow  that  great  day.  And  now 
when  their  task  is  finished  and  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  those  crusaders,  who  reclaimed  the  fair 
fields  of  France  and  Belgium  from  the  befouling 
touch  of  the  Hun,  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  their 
re-entry  into  civil  life,  this  question  becomes  im- 
minent and  pervades  the  minds  of  all. 

Every  soldier  overseas  has  had  ample  time  since 
the  signing  of  the  armistice  for  looking  forward  and 
planning  his  course,  as  soon  as  he  has  a  chance  to  get 
into  "civies"  again,  down  to  the  last  detail;  and 

40 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  41 

there  are  as  many  sets  of  personal  plans  as  soldiers  in 
the  Army.  Old  jobs  are  waiting,  but  many  having 
had  a  taste  of  open  air  life,  look  back  upon  their 
former  work  as  somewhat  of  a  grind,  and  so  plan 
for  something  different.  They  have  lived  the 
changeful  life  of  the  army  and  have  decided  that 
never  again  will  office  or  store  or  bank  hold  them. 
Men  who  enlisted  from  the  small  towns  and  rural 
districts,  having  seen  strange  and  wonderful  sights 
and  lived  in  a  world  of  big  events,  realise  the  nar- 
rowness of  their  lives  before  the  war,  and  there  is 
a  serious  problem  in  the  query  of  that  popular  song: 
*'How  are  you  going  to  keep  the  boys  down  on  the 
farm  after  they've  seen  Paree'?" 

As  soon  as  those  discharge  papers  are  safely 
tucked  away  in  his  pocket,  every  man  intends  to  take 
a  direct  route  for  the  old  home  town  to  see  Dad 
and  Mother  and  the  rest  of  the  family.  And  then 
too,  there  is  his  best  girl — he  looks  forward  to  "fra- 
ternising" with  her  with  no  one  to  say  "verboten." 
Surely  she  has  a  prominent  place  in  his  home-com- 
ing. He  went  to  join  the  colours  just  at  the  time 
when  in  a  few  months  he  hoped  to  marry  and  start 
with  her  a  new  home — the  kind  of  a  home  which 
abounds  in  our  land  and  which  is  the  bulwark  of 
our  nation;  but  the  war  and  the  draft  suddenly 


42  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

changed  all  the  future.  He  was  called  to  the  training 
camp  and  later  crossed  to  the  battle  line  of  France. 
As  he  went  forth  in  the  early  months  of  the  war, 
"Not  knowing  whither  he  went,"  or  even  if  it  would 
ever  be  permitted  to  him  to  take  the  homeward  path, 
her  cheering  letters,  full  of  faith  and  hope  and  love, 
followed  him  to  sustain  and  comfort  his  spirit.  It  is 
natural  that  in  his  personal  plans  for  the  future  she 
holds  the  most  prominent  place,  as  he  looks  forward 
to  going  down  that  "long,  long  trail"  with  her. 

But  how  will  the  returning  soldier  conduct  him- 
self in  the  broader  relationships  which  appertain  to 
civilian  life*?  He  saw  upon  the  battlefields  of 
France  what  a  mighty  force  the  young  manhood  of 
America  was  when  organised  against  a  powerful, 
blood-thirsty  foe, — a  would-be  assassin  of  civilisa- 
tion. Cannot  and  will  not  this  co-operated  manhood 
still  maintain  its  powers  and  usefulness  even  after 
its  constituents  rejoin  the  army  of  civilians'?  Every 
thoughtful  and  observant  man  realises  that  in  the 
role  of  a  civilian,  he  will  be  called  to  battle  against 
powerful  foes  of  free  government  which  exist  in  the 
homeland.  The  young  manhood  of  our  country 
under  efficient  leadership,  compelled  the  haughty 
Hun  on  a  foreign  soil  to  plead  for  mercy.  It  is 
true  that  the  guns  of  the  enemy  are  silenced  and  a 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  43 

France  and  Belgium  are  saved  to  civilisation  in 
Europe  but  strenuous  battles  of  peace  are  impending 
and  problems  are  before  us  for  solution,  as  import- 
ant as  any  that  have  been  incident  to  the  great 
conflict  just  passed.  The  soldier  has  tested  his 
strength  when  co-operating  with  other  men  and  has 
seen  success,  and  the  confidence  gained  thereby  will 
be  a  decisive  factor  in  the  coming  battles  of  civilian 
life. 

Love  of  country  is  no  longer  an  abstract  thing 
to  the  returning  soldier.  It  has  come  to  be  a  real  and 
vital  part  of  his  life.  Comparison  of  our  own  coun- 
try, its  ideals  and  customs,  with  the  countries  of 
Europe  and  their  manner  of  life  has  resulted  in  a 
new  conception  of  patriotism,  a  new  meaning  to  the 
word  America  and  a  deeper  appreciation  for  the 
ideals  and  institutions  which  we  hold  dear.  He  will 
realise  more  than  before  the  exalted  place  which 
woman  holds  in  our  American  civilisation  and  will 
ever  be  a  valiant  champion  for  her  in  the  main- 
tenance and  enlargement  of  her  rights.  He  will 
stand  for  the  ideals  of  our  land  with  reference  to 
morality  and  sobriety.  Any  evil  which  threatens 
the  sanctity  of  the  home  or  the  highest  welfare  of 
American  citizenship  will  be  met  in  conflict  and 
overthrown.    He  has  toiled,  suffered  and  endured 


44  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

hardship  for  that  country  and  the  principles  which 
it  upholds  and  he  will  ever  remain  ready  to  engage 
in  combat  any  threatening  foe. 

In  his  personal  relations  with  his  fellow-men, 
there  will  be  a  marked  change.  He  has  seen  men 
wounded;  he  has  seen  men  die.  He  has  seen  the 
nobility  which  they  can  show  under  such  conditions. 
And  from  all  this  a  new  view  of  life  has  evolved.  On 
the  march,  in  the  billet,  his  constant  and  intimate  as- 
sociation with  other  men  has  formed  within  his  char- 
acter a  kindlier  feeling  for  humanity — a  feeling  of 
comradeship  which  is  to  direct  his  course  as  he  again 
enters  the  varied  activities  of  civilian  life. 

He  is  going  to  stand  for  a  square  deal  for  the  man 
who  is  oppressed  and  see  that  he  gets  it.  The  ques- 
tion of  Cain  which  has  come  to  us  down  through 
the  ages  of  turmoil  and  unrest :  "Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper  *?"  is  going  to  receive  a  definite  answer  in 
terms  of  comradeship  and  brotherly  love. 

And  thus  great  lessons  have  come  to  the  thought- 
ful man  from  his  experiences  in  army  life;  lessons 
which  will  be  with  him  through  all  the  subsequent 
life  and  which  will  be  reflected  in  all  his  opinions 
and  activities.  He  will  be  a  more  zealous  patriot,  a 
worthier  citizen,  a  truer  friend  of  humanity.  In  all 
his  relationships  with  men,  a  spirit  of  comradeship 


X  iOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  45 

u 

will  pervade  and  guide  his  actions  which  will  result 
in  a  saner,  stronger  and  purer  national  life  in  our 
beloved  America,  beneath  that  battle-tried  banner — 
the  Stars  and  Stripes. 


Anonymous. 

For  four  long  years  the  world  has  been  shaken 
by  the  turmoil  of  a  war  far  deeper  in  significance  and 
results  than  any  previous  one.  During  this  period 
men  united  themselves  into  a  system  that  they  might 
conquer  militarism  for  the  cause  of  humanity. 
Every  individual  before  entering  the  service  of  his 
country  debated  its  causes  and  his  reasons  for  fight- 
ing. "To  War  and  then  what^"  was  the  question 
which  weighed  upon  the  minds  of  the  patriot,  and 
in  the  final  analysis  he  resolved  to  sacrifice  his  life 
and  ambition  for  home  and  for  country.  Toward 
that  goal  our  Allies  and  then  ourselves  fought  and 
conquered  a  nation  that  had  prepared  intensively 
for  five  decades  to  gain  dominion  of  the  world. 

Amidst  such  important  events  in  the  history  of 
the  world,  the  soldier,  the  modest  hero  of  it  all, 
patiently  awaits  his  return  to  civic  life,  having  done 
his  best  as  an  infinitesimal  part  of  a  vast  army.  A 
period  of  transition  is  at  hand.  To  go  home  is  the 
uppermost  thought  in  his  mind.   Home  means  more 

46 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  47 

than  it  ever  did  before.  Most  of  the  A.  E.  F.  are 
now  enjoying  that  which  will  fall  heir  to  us  as  soon 
as  our  work  overseas  is  completed.  We  are  forming 
plans  for  the  future.  In  the  minds  and  hearts  of  all 
lurks  this  query:  "Home  and  then  what?"  To 
answer  this  for  all  would  take  a  lifetime  but  know- 
ing the  popular  trend  of  the  soldier's  mind  I  am 
firmly  convinced  the  majority  will  finish  the  ques- 
tion by  asking,  "What  is  my  duty  to  myself,  to  my 
home,  and  my  country?"  Does  it  suffice  to  say  we 
have  carried  out  the  old  slogan,  "done  our  bit"  ?  Are 
we  going  back  home  to  play  a  worse  or  better  role 
in  the  drama  of  life  with  the  world  as  a  stage? 
Of  course,  the  settings  in  our  respective  worlds  still 
differ,  but  we  are  all  human  and  it  is  easy  to  discuss 
a  few  common  denominators  the  boys  are  thinking 
of  both  on  land  and  sea.  Upon  the  convictions, 
ideals  and  purposes  of  the  A.  E.  F.  will  largely 
depend  the  future  of  our  Democracy.  Am  I  ready 
to  represent  such  at  home  and  have  I  duly  fitted 
myself  to  take  a  part  in  the  new  regime  of  thought 
which  is  now  flickering  before  the  retina  of  men's 
minds?  This  causes  us  to  hold  an  introspection  of 
mind,  body  and  soul.  After  such  scrutinisation  we 
conclude  that  our  duty  to  our  individual  selves  as 
relative  units,  whatever  pursuit  we  expect  to  follow, 


48  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

whatever  obligations  as  a  citizen  we  have,  three 
fundamental  duties  demand  immediate  consid- 
eration. 

In  the  first  place,  our  country  demands  health  as 
a  requisite  of  a  loyal  citizen.  Upon  its  health  de- 
pends its  existence.  Every  soldier  understands  what 
health  means  in  an  army  of  fit  fighting  men.  In 
returning  to  civilian  life,  can  I  afford  not  to  be  clean 
and  healthy^  Upon  my  physical  status  depends  the 
number  of  days  I  work,  how  efficient  I  am  in  the 
doing  of  that  work  and  the  compensation  I  make  for 
myself,  my  family  and  the  economic  world.  An 
athlete  carefully  looks  after  his  health.  Whether 
employee  or  employer,  it  is  just  as  important  in  per- 
forming the  best  services  in  any  occupation  that 
health  should  receive  attention  first.  A  diseased 
human  machine  cannot  exist  long  in  this  age  of  com- 
petition. If  I  use  alcohol  to  such  an  extent  that  it 
undermines  the  functions  of  my  organs,  weakens  my 
brain  power  and  causes  me  to  lose  a  number  of  day's 
work  annually,  in  production  and  a  like  deduction  in 
my  wage,  am  I  not  becoming  an  economic  parasite*? 
If  I  am  addicted  to  illicit  sexual  intercourse  and  con- 
tract a  venereal  disease  which  renders  me  useless  as  a 
wage  earner  for  a  period  of  time  or  inflicts  me  with 
a  chronic  disease  for  life,  am  I  treating  society  on 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  49 

the  square  ?  I  owe  my  health  to  my  family,  for  pos- 
terity swings  back  and  forth  on  the  health  of  pre- 
ceding generations.  Who  have  had  a  better  oppor- 
tunity to  know  the  value  of  health  and  clean  living 
than  the  A.  E.  F.?  A  bigger  social  health  pro- 
gramme comes  from  our  war  experience  in  France 
and  everywhere  men  feel  such  as  one  of  their  essen- 
tial duties  in  civilian  life. 

In  the  second  place,  America  demands  trained 
men,  men  who  think,  men  who  reason,  men  whose 
education  is  never  completed.  I  will  confront  new 
problems  in  social,  economic  and  political  affairs 
which  require  better  information  and  study.  I  am 
going  to  resume  my  former  occupation.  Am  I 
mentally  prepared?  Am  I  contented  to  follow  it  in 
the  same  rut  with  only  a  care  for  existence'?  Initia- 
tive which  hibernated  so  long  under  the  yoke  of 
daily  army  routine  will  see  its  shadow  again.  We 
cannot  afford  to  let  it  lie  dormant.  We  must  seek 
improvement  in  skill  and  methods  of  work.  If  I  am 
a  farmer  whose  land  returns  to  him  a  comfortable 
livelihood  am  I  bettering  myself  or  society  as  a  pro- 
ducer by  not  becoming  in  modern  phraseology,  an 
agricultural  engineer?  If  I  am  a  day  labourer,  can 
I  expect  promotion  or  increase  in  my  pay  envelope 
doing  an  exact  amount  of  work  in  proportion  to  my 


50  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

wage  with  my  interest  elsewhere'?  If  a  professional 
man,  am  I  to  raise  my  scholarship,  standards  of  work 
and  reputation  without  constant  study?  If  I  were 
called  away  to  war  in  the  midst  of  my  university 
course  am  I  permitting  the  matter  of  time  to  over- 
balance my  duty  for  efficient  service?  Such  realisa- 
tions of  my  sense  of  duty  in  becoming  better  trained 
in  my  daily  tasks  will  create  a  bigger  interest  for 
public  obligations.  Most  of  us  are  interested  in 
politics  but  we  are  political  derelicts  in  knowing  the 
qualifications  of  our  candidates  and  the  purports  of 
various  measures.  Have  I  been  marking  the  ballot 
for  the  best  interests  of  my  family,  my  neighbours 
and  my  community?  Do  I  vote  a  certain  way  be- 
cause it  is  popular,  because  of  my  own  selfish  inter- 
ests? In  every  locality  we  know  such  citizens.  On 
a  large  scale  Germany's  politicians  were  selfish,  forc- 
ing upon  her  people  and  politics  such  disrepute  that 
the  coming  generations  must  make  right  with  the 
world.  Are  we  going  home  to  set  up  a  little  Prussia? 
As  soldiers,  we  battled  with  selfishness  in  the  rank 
and  file  of  men.  In  a  marked  degree  we  have 
learned  to  toss  it  aside  for  the  good  of  all.  To 
that  end  it  is  our  task  to  urge  the  masses  to  become  a 
more  intelligent  voting  constituency.  We  must  keep 
alert  to  equal  the  woman  at  the  polls.   Our  political 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  51 

machinery  will  seek  reorganisation  and  our  states- 
men will  be  broader  thinkers  because  the  purest  ideal 
of  our  American  nation — the  American  woman — 
will  consider  her  new  privilege  as  a  civic  duty. 

Lastly,  am  I  morally  fit  to  resume  my  relations 
at  home*?  What  standard  of  morals  does  public 
opinion  demand?  I  have  been  absent  from  my  pre- 
war environment.  I  hesitate  to  prophesy  what  an 
individual  would  become  with  incessant  war.  Be- 
ginning with  the  age  of  prehistoric  man,  people  have 
possessed  a  standard  of  morals.  They  have  occupied 
different  planes,  the  Crusades,  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, the  Civil  War  point  out  a  few  epochs  in  the 
gradual  climb  towards  better  civilisation.  And  now, 
this  world  war  has  raised  it  to  a  higher  plane. 
Morality  has  taken  to  aviation.  The  aims  of  this 
war  are  essentially  moral  and  religious.  In  our  daily 
army  life  such  did  not  vividly  show,  yet  it  was 
deeply  rooted  under  the  surface.  We  seemed  to 
become  hardboiled  with  a  determination  to  win  at 
any  cost.  In  the  madness  of  war  personal  morals 
were  often  neglected.  But,  beneath  it  all,  each  God- 
fearing soldier  was  forming  the  foundation  of  a 
deeper  moral  conviction.  Now,  that  it  is  over  my 
conscience  awakens  in  me  my  duty  to  my  Mother,  my 
country,  and  my  God.  Reputation  now  puts  a  larger 


52  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

valuation  on  my  character.  Past  experiences  either 
net  profit  or  loss.  In  no  small  way,  our  experiences 
overseas  prepare  us  to  take  up  the  responsibilities 
of  a  new  citizenship,  a  new  home  and  a  new  democ- 
racy. In  the  association  of  rich  with  poor,  in  the 
co-operation  of  strong  powers  with  the  weak,  a  new 
life  and  a  new  world  is  being  born.  As  comrades  in 
service  we  have  learned  to  be  courageous,  unselfish, 
humble  and  loyal  with  a  new  vision.  Our  devotion 
to  the  cause  of  humanity,  our  willingness  to  die  has 
or  will  render  in  us  a  great  moral  decision.  The  way 
we  apply  it  in  these  days  of  peace  will  prove  how 
thoroughly  a  Victory  was  won  and  how  well  we  face 
our  new  phase  of  duty  to  ourselves,  our  homes  and 
our  nation.  Our  country  calls  us  home  to  assume 
the  controlling  forces  in  all  walks  of  life.  Upon 
every  member  of  the  A.  E.  F.  falls  a  responsibility 
to  do  his  share  in  shaping  the  destinies  of  our  nation 
in  this  new  era  of  world  wide  democracy. 


II 

Newton  S.  Bement, 
604  E.  Madison  St. 

Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  U.S.A. 

NOTE:  This  is  not  an  essay;  it  has  neither  unity  nor 
coherence.  It  is  not  an  attempt  at  studied  discussion  of 
some  particular  point  of  contemporary  interest ;  it  is  merely 
a  collection  of  remarks  which  might  bear  repetition  to  a  de- 
mobilized A.  E.  F.  In  case  of  participation  in  prizes,  re- 
quested that  such  be  turned  over  to  a  French  war-orphans' 
fund.— N.  S.   B. 


Well,  why  not  be  a  hero*?  The  idea  tickles  the 
vanity  quite  deliciously.  And  it  will  hardly  be  im- 
possible as  long  as  there  are  mothers,  and  sisters, 
and  younger  brothers  especially.  Likewise  there  are 
happy  states  of  existence  permeated  by  tables  done 
in  white  linen,  and  civilised  methods  of  consuming 
food,  and  untenanted  sleeping  apparatus,  and  even 
porcelain  bathing  ware.  But,  after  your  little  home- 
coming celebration  and  vacation, — what  next? 

Your  American  answer  is,  quite  naturally, 
Work.  Undoubtedly  you  are  better  fitted  for  suc- 
cess than   ever  before;  you   are  bringing  home   a 

.53 


54  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

keener  mind  than  you  took  away.  Whatever  injus- 
tices were  inflicted  upon  you  in  the  army,  upon  de- 
mobilisation you  will  have  left  them  behind  with 
their  causes.  Remember  that  it  was  an  instrument 
designed  avowedly  to  cure  those  addicted  to  its 
use  and  rejoice  that  it  succeeded  even  in  its  own 
case.  You  held  up  your  hand  and  said,  "I  do."  And 
you  did;  you  learned  some  tricks  which  will  never 
have  to  be  taught  you  again.  But  you  went  through 
it,  and  now  you  are  at  liberty  to  satisfy  your  appe- 
tite for  a  peaceful  life. 

But  is  that  all  ?  By  having  been  a  member  of  the 
A.  E.  F.  you  have  acquired  responsibilities  of  which 
you  may  or  may  not  be  aware.  First,  to  America; 
secondly,  to  France.  You  are  the  instructor  of  the 
people  about  you;  they  are  going  to  look  to  you 
for  information  as  coming  from  first-hand  contact 
with  our  allies.  If  you  hold  fancied  grievances 
against  them,  will  you  make  that  a  basis  for  turning 
your  neighbour  against  them  as  a  nation  ^  Or  if  you 
have  only  pleasant  remembrances,  will  you  listen 
neutrally  to  unjust  talk  from  another?  Americans 
have  allowed  extremely  minute  .things  to  prejudice 
them.  High  prices,  for  example.  Yet  these  were  in 
part  the  American's  own  fault;  he  showed  too  much 
money,  spent  too  freely,  and  the  mass  suffered  for 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  55 

the  acts  of  the  individual.  Again,  he  couldn't  expect 
to  be  the  exception  to  a  rule  which  has  held  through 
all  time  for  any  army  on  foreign  soil;  the  same 
thing  happened  to  some  French  soldiers  in  America, 
long  ago.  Furthermore,  I  never  paid  higher  prices  in 
Paris  than  I  did  for  the  same  article  in  Augusta, 
Georgia.  The  love  of  "sticking"  a  man  in  uniform 
seems  to  be  inherent  in  all  humanity. 

Another  example  of  causes  for  prejudice,  demon- 
strated in  a  letter  which  I  recently  received:  "My 
cousin  has  just  returned  from  France,  and  has  told 
me  many  interesting  things  about  it.  However,  I 
am  disappointed  too.  I  never  knew  of  its  abomin- 
able morals — my  honour  to  France  is  somewhat 
lessened  by  what  I  now  know."  The  American 
mind,  I  believe,  connects  that  word  "morals"  more 
or  less  with  women.  Perhaps  the  aforementioned 
cousin  had  been  solicited.  But  the  question  is  beside 
the  point  as  long  as  his  own  morals  remain  intact, — 
it  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain.  Evidently  he 
thought  the  women  of  the  boulevards  were  the 
women  of  France.  Or,  he  may  have  been  thinking  of 
wine,  a  subject  on  which  there  is  nothing  to  say 
except  that  we  are  simply  different — and  extremists. 
The  French  will  never  understand  why  we  can't 
make  one  glass  last  a  whole  evening,  or  why  we  had 


56  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

the  habit  of  hiding  behind  the  swinging  doors  while 
we  took  it. 

To  gain  understanding,  the  fundamental  necessity 
is  to  realise  that  the  French  are  a  product  of  a  his- 
tory, of  traditions,  of  a  civilisation  entirely  different 
from  ours.  Understanding  them  comes  only  through 
living  with  them,  by  being  received  into  their  fam- 
ilies. It  is  there  that  you  get  at  the  roots  of  a  nation. 
Regrettably,  this  chance  has  been  open  to  but  a  few 
of  the  A.  E.  F.,  the  rest  have  had  to  judge  from  the 
surface  or  the  casual  passer-by  of  the  street.  The 
real  French  regret  this  as  much  as  we  regret  that 
the  conduct  of  some  of  our  Americans  left  impres- 
sions difficult  for  the  rest  of  us  to  change.  To  con- 
tinue; we  call  them  unpractical,  and  laugh  at  them; 
they  call  us  too  practical,  and  laugh  in  their  turn. 
Their  daily  life  is  more  naive  than  ours.  They 
call  a  spade  a  spade,  which  shocks  our  American 
ears.  From  the  rush  of  affairs  they  reserve  a  little 
time  for  self-seeking — we  are  too  busy  for  that. 
Both  find  their  happiness,  but  in  different  manner. 
Each  must  interpret  the  other  in  the  light  of  his 
aims  and  ideals.  As  for  which  really  lives  the  more 
worth-while  life,  that  question  is  for  the  individual 
to  answer  when  he  will  have  arrived  at  its  end. 
Meantime  it  is  the  duty  of  the  homecoming  A.  E.  F. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  57 

to  render  to  America  that  information  which  will 
permit  our  allies  to  be  appreciated  as  a  people. 
Therein  grow  the  only  true  and  lasting  friendships 
between  nations.  The  true  French — the  ones  who 
think  and  act  and  carry  something  behind  the  eyes 
— have  done  their  best  to  understand,  as  the  soldier 
representatives  of  a  great  people,  those  Americans 
with  whom  they  have  come  into  contact.  It  remains 
for  these  same  Americans,  returning  home,  to  do  as 
well  in  representing  France  to  an  America  which 
relies  upon  them  for  its  impressions. 

And  now,  our  responsibility  to  America.  This 
settling  down  business  looks  from  afar  much  like  a 
hive  of  tame  bees  trying  to  absorb  a  swarm  of 
nomads.  Each  must  light  about  so  many  times  be- 
fore he  sticks.  But  the  period  will  soon  pass;  it  is 
a  question  of  guiding  production  back  into  the 
smoother  pre-war  channels.  Possibly  the  industrial 
machine  needs  a  general  overhauling.  Whatever  it 
needs  it  will  get,  as  fast  as  the  real  sources  of  creaks 
and  rattles  are  discovered.  But  each  one  to  his  post, 
and  the  old  mill  will  still  turn  out  profits. 

Last  and  most,  there  is  another  war  to  .finish. 
This  is  going  to  be  a  nice  pleasant  war  because  we 
know  in  advance  just  what  it's  all  about.  It  was 
once  stated  that  we  should  have  peace  if  we  had  to 


68  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

fight  for  it.  That  remark,  one  may  believe,  was 
aimed  directly  at  Europe.  It  seems  now  that  all 
charity  should  end  at  home,  whether  it  begins  there 
or  not.  You  served  two  years.  Some  of  that  time 
you  spent  in  the  trenches,  or  in  front  of  them;  per- 
haps you  left  your  best  buddie  there.  Or,  you  were 
behind  the  lines  working  seven  days  of  the  week  and 
often  nights.   What  for?   Peace.    Have  you  got  it*? 

The  greatest  thing  that  America  has  gained  in  this 
combat  is  a  national  consciousness.  We  were  flung 
by  circumstances  into  a  path  leading  to  a  real  na- 
tional unity;  and  now,  regrettably,  the  path  seems 
to  end  in  an  unblazed  trail.  Is  there  any  group 
better  fitted  than  the  A.  E.  F.  to  continue  the  blaz- 
ing? Has  any  one  been  able  to  acquire  a  better 
perspective  of  the  wilderness  through  which  we  must 
pass  while  the  country  changes  from  centralised 
back  to  local  control  ? — and  while  it  decides  on  some 
questions  which  demand  newsolutions  never  before 
considered? 

First,  "America  for  Americans" — if  there  ever 
again  will  be  a  time  to  make  America  a  good  place 
for  Americans,  that  time  is  now.  What  about  im- 
migration? Isn't  the  time  for  pocket-filling  about 
past?  We  might  want  to  raise  a  family  of  our  own, 
some  day.   And  aren't  we  about  old  enough  to  cast 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  59 

aside  our  childhood  toy,  the  famous  "melting  pot," 
and  give  its  contents  a  chance  to  solidify?  Again, 
what  about  our  hyphenated  Americans'?  Yes,  plenty 
of  them  have  destroyed  the  hyphen  forever  but  there 
are  still  enough  who  have  simply  laid  it  away  in 
cold  storage.  Will  you  go  on  tolerating  them?  I 
knew  a  woman  who  flaunted  her  pro-Germanism  in 
the  public  face  by  refusing  to  allow  the  American 
flag  to  fly  above  her  house.  She  was  not  dangerous. 
I  cite  her  merely  as  evidence.  The  local  administra- 
tion was  shouting  lustily  for  home  and  country  and 
allies,  but  strangely  it  took  no  positive  steps  in  this 
case.  In  that  district,  the  real  American  population 
formed  a  minority.  There  are  many  similar  ones, 
where  the  hyphen  will  come  out  of  cold  storage  as 
soon  as  the  storm  is  nicely  blown  over.  Stop  immi- 
gration for  a  couple  of  generations,  and  the  causes 
for  such  conditions  may  die  a  natural  death.  Mean- 
while you've  got  to  live  consciously  and  with  your 
eyes  open  and  memory  working,  if  you're  going  to 
weed  out  the  propaganda.  And  if  you  don't,  you 
have  lost  everytliing  that  you  fought  for  in  France. 
What,  then,  is  your  part?  In  civilian  life  every 
ex-A.  E.  F.  man  is  a  three-striper.  After  your  sacri- 
fice, the  people  are  ready  to  look  to  your  leadership 
a  little,  to  believe  that  your  motives  are  honest. 


60  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

1.  — — 1 

You  are  a  power;  you  can  make  your  own  little 
propaganda  for  a  peace  in  unity  at  home,  and  put  it 
over.  Set  the  example ;  form  your  company  and  start 
policing  up  your  home  district.  A  company  to  each 
ex-member  of  the  A.  E.  F.  means  an  army  for  unity, 
peace  and  prosperity,  extending  from  coast  to  coast, 
and  the  beginning  of  a  firmer,  greater  nation. 

Home — and  then  what?  Many  will  answer: 
"The  truth  about  the  army."  But  no;  forget  it,  it's 
been  overdone  already.  There's  enough  hysteria 
now  without  adding  more.  Show  that  you  are  one 
of  the  most  conscious  citizens  in  a  newly  conscious 
nation.  Utilise  the  advantages  of  your  experience 
and  perspective  to  make  it  a  nation  wherein  there 
shall  exist  not  only  an  economic,  industrial  or  com- 
mercial smoothness,  but  also  a  real  rock-ribbed  na- 
tional unity  as  among  men  who  know  what  they 
want — and  intend  to  have  it. 


Ill 

Roy  E.  B.  Bower, 
Pvt.  Med.  Dept., 
A.P.O.  949, 
A.E.F. 

Home  Address:  308  W.  137th  St., 
New  York  City. 

Home — Then  What*?  Why  then  a  week  of  get- 
ting acquainted  with  neckties,  garters,  cuff-links, 
Childs  restaurants,  twenty-page  newspapers,  prohi- 
bition, baths,  alarm-clocks,  English-speaking  women, 
and  other  commonplaces  unknown  to  us  now.  The 
first  time  we  walk  out  in  a  civilian  suit  we'll  be  as 
self-conscious  as  on  that  day  when  Mother  saw  you 
in  khaki  and  said:  "Couldn't  you  get  a  better  fit, 
dear?' 

For  a  week  we'll  simply  get  used  to  being  civil- 
ians. We'll  go  around  recognising  old  friends — pay- 
as-you-enter  cars,  soda-fountains,  tooth-brush  adver- 
tisements— we'll  begin  to  feel  at  home  again  in 
clean  cities,  where  there  are  broad  sidewalks,  no 
urinals  on  street  corners,  houses  open  to  sunlight 
and  air,  gardens  in  front  for  every  one  to  enjoy, 

where  civic  sanitation  and  personal  health  are  com- 

61 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


munity  ideals.  The  end  of  this  will  quite  likely  be 
comparison  with  the  European  life  we  know,  and  our 
national  pride,  already  puffed-up,  is  apt  to  become 
arrogance.  But  oh,  with  what  absolute  sincerity, 
born  of  experience,  can  we  say :  "Thank  God  Fm  an 
American  I" 

We  will  wander  about  in  this  mood  which  those 
who  didn't  come  across  can  only  half-understand, 
for  several  days.  It  will  dawn  upon  us  that  we  are 
more  enthusiastic  citizens  of  the  United  States  than 
ever  before,  and  our  reasons  will  be  definite.  We 
like  American  ways,  American  people — nothing 
needs  to  be  explained — we  feel  at  home.  But  here, 
pause  a  moment.  What  sort  of  fellows  are  we?  The 
army  has  done  us  great  good  and  much  harm ;  which 
is  predominant,  and  how  will  it  affect  your  coming 
years  *? 

Every  nation  pets  its  soldiers,  calls  them  "the 
boys,"  feeds  them  candy  as  if  every  day  were  Christ- 
mas, entertains  them,  gives  them  paper  to  write 
home,  and  relieves  them  of  what  little  thinking  the 
army  lets  them  do  for  themselves.  Now  America 
has  taken  two  million  grown  men  of  twenty  to 
thirty  away  from  civilian  responsibilities,  fed  and 
clothed  and  then  transported  them  to  Europe,  sup- 
ported dependent  relatives  at  home,   required  not 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  63 

one  moment's  initiative  from  them,  and  has,  instead, 
babied  them  like  spoiled  children. 

At  times  most  of  these  young  men  have  been 
called  upon  to  display  the  utmost  of  manly  fortitude 
and  courage.  But  that  is  all  over  now.  We  are  "the 
boys"  again,  being  spoiled  all  the  worse  because  of 
our  success  in  obeying  orders,  and  our  sacrifice  dur- 
ing these  months  of  heart-breaking  struggle  when 
our  pluck  finally  won  the  great  game.  This  attitude 
of  the  folks  at  home  will  remain  for  awhile  after 
discharge.    For  a  short  while. 

The  real  test  will  come  when  the  novelty  has 
worn  off.  You  can  gauge  this  period  by  remarking 
the  day  you  can  complain  of  hot-cakes  or  ice-cream. 
You  are  free — to  obey  a  hundred  calls  of  responsi- 
bility the  army  has  taught  you  to  neglect.  You 
either  go  back  to  your  old  job  or  you  don't,  in  either 
case  you  are  inevitably  drawn  into  the  machine 
which  grinds  all  the  harder  when  there  are  armies  to 
support.  You've  got  tt)  take  up  your  burden,  there's 
no  getting  around  it — unless  you  go  back  into  the 
army  or  write  a  best-seller  on  your  experience  in  No 
Man's  Land. 

There  are  some  who  will  write  best-sellers  and, 
oh  miserable  souls,  there  are  some  who  will  stay  in 
the  army.  Suppose  we  put  aside  these,  and  a  certain 


64  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

number  of  those  who  came  across  the  better  to  dis- 
cuss the  rest.  A  sprinkling,  a  few  thousand  maybe, 
will  go  home  and  take  up  all  things  where  they  left 
them.  These  are  the  people  who  have  brains  but 
resent  being  made  to  use  them.  Quite  likely  there 
are  some  of  the  opposite  type  who  suppose  that  life 
will  be  utterly  different  now  that  they  have  killed 
(supposedly)  a  few  Germans.  This  kind  will  form 
clubs  to  discuss  After  the  War — What?  and  The 
Seven  Stomached  Beast  of  Revelations.  But  the 
common  run  of  us,  however  we  differ  as  individuals, 
share  our  state  of  mind  as  a  result  of  having  been 
part  of  the  A.  E.  F. 

What  do  we  think  of  it?  Nothing  consciously, 
that's  just  the  point.  People  do  write  articles  about 
us,  explaining  to  us  that  we  will  come  back  changed, 
some  say  more  gentle,  some  say  more  savage;  other 
people  preach  sermons  either  warning  us  of  our  new 
duty  now  that  our  eyes  are  opened,  or  warning  our 
stay-at-home  relatives  of  their  duty  to  ''those  lads 
who  have  fought  and  bled  for  the  noblest  and  so 
on  I"  But  no  amount  of  words  can  define  a  thing 
that  only  deeds  can  prove  exists. 

As  for  us,  our  question  "Home,  then  what?" 
merely  means  "What  job?"  We  don't  stop  to  figure 
out  our  future  as  a  citizen,  or  write  down  our  duties 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  65 

3 


or  ideals  of  community  life.  Who  consciously  com- 
pares the  life  he  might  have  led  with  the  one  he  is 
planning  now?  Except  for  the  prosaic  matter  of 
what  sort  of  work  he  does,  no  one  thinks  about  it. 
This  exception  of  what  job  he  takes  is  important,  but 
not  of  the  greatest  importance.  For  after  all,  if  you 
leave  your  old  occupation  and  try  something  new — 
the  war  has  at  least  given  us  all  a  good  chance  to 
change  if  we  want  to — you  will  be  the  same  sort  of 
person  with  the  same  strength  and  weakness  of  char- 
acter in  either  job. 

The  effect  of  your  experiences  in  the  trenches  or 
hospitals,  or  wherever  you  were  and  felt  and  saw  the 
fine  emotions  which  the  crisis  of  war  brings  to  the 
surface,  will  not  show  in  your  choice  of  a  job,  but 
how  you  handle  it.  It  won't  matter  if  you  settle  in 
the  country  or  come  to  the  city,  what  matters  is  how 
you  bring  up  your  sons. 

Then  since  you  are  only  slightly  conscious  of 
the  new  springs  of  action  which  impel  your  life 
along  new  channels,  what  are  the  motives  "in  the 
back  of  your  head"  that  have  changed  your  charac- 
ter while  you  were  busy  eating  Salvation  Army 
doughnuts  '^ 

One  concrete  example  first.  You  spend  an  eve- 
ning with  Nenette's  parents,  the  idea  being  to  get 


66  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

on  the  good  side  of  Pere  Guichard.  Nenette  remains 
demurely  in  the  corner  and  adores  you,  remarking 
to  herself  that  you  speak  much  better  French  alone 
with  her  than  when  you  try  to  tell  her  father  about 
America.  Anyway,  you  explain  that  in  our  villages 
the  cows  are  stabled  in  barns,  not  in  the  next  room. 
That  people  bathe  once  a  week  and  oftener  and 
don't  die  from  it.  That  brushing  the  teeth  is  a 
national  habit,  even  among  the  less  fastidious  male 
sex.  That  we  sleep  with  the  windows  open  all  night. 
That  we  discourage  smoking  in  boys,  and  are  dis- 
gusted with  it  in  women.  That  the  country  thought 
so  poorly  of  alcohol  that  we  are  about  to  do  away 
with  it  entirely.  Pere  Guichard,  who  has  had  no 
teeth  since  he  was  forty,  dreads  a  draft,  learned  to 
drink  alcohol  when  he  was  three,  and  doesn't  care  if 
his  street  is  dirty  as  long  as  his  kitchen  is  clean, 
thinks  you  and  America  are  an  insufferable  prig. 
But  do  you?  Why  instead  you  are  bragging.  You 
will  go  back  home  with  firmer  ideas  than  ever  on 
civic  sanitation,  personal  cleanliness,  and  public 
morals. 

Let  us  sum  up  in  outline  from  the  effect  the  A.  E. 
F.  experience  has  had  on  you.  True,  most  French- 
men are  happier,  more  satisfied,  than  Americans,  but 
is  not  discontent  the  secret  of  progress?   First  then 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  67 

I 

you  will  compare  life  in  Europe  with  life  at  home. 
Two  main  thoughts  occur  to  you.  Civic  responsi- 
bility and  personal  cleanliness.  Under  the  first  you 
will  realise  that  things  which  at  home  are  axioms, 
here  are  novelties.  This  will  carry  you  to  the 
election  booth  on  matters  of  civic  pride.  Under  the 
second  you  will  realise  with  pride  the  virtue  of 
cleanliness,  ultra-fastidiousness  is  no  crime.  Again 
you  will  vote  wisely  on  tobacco,  liquor,  venereal 
disease  laws. 

The  second  large  effect  of  the  A.  E.  F.  on  you 
is  the  one  the  article  writers  at  home  dwell  on  (for 
that  reason  I  only  mention  it).  Why  go  into  detail? 
We  all  know  the  effect  of  our  self-sacrifice  for  in- 
tangible ideals,  the  quickening  of  the  spirit  for  the 
other  fellow,  the  virtue  of  patience  under  suffering. 
We  have  been  made  men  by  it. 

Yet — who  has  not  read  George  Bernard  Shaw's 
preface  to  "John  Bull's  Other  Island'"?  Do  so,  and 
you  will  find  to-day's  soldier  described.  So  there 
are  those  for  whom  the  question  ''Home — Then 
What?"  means  simply  failure.  Because  I  do  not 
think  these  are  many  I  will  not  hesitate  here — it  is 
a  warning,  no  more. 

We  are  a  country  of  Faith.  So  then  the  con- 
clusion. We  have  broken  from  old  ways,  paying  for 


68  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

— — — ^^^^— — ^^™— —  — "^"™^^^^T 

the  privilege  by  turning  over  to  the  army  our  respon- 
sibilities. Again  we  face  life's  burdens.  We  shall 
conquer  such  habits  as  are  not  good,  we  shall  be 
armed  with  braver  spirits,  more  determined  civic 
pride,  deeper  love  of  our  nation,  we  shall  win  out. 
The  war  has  done  this  for  us.  Home?  Why  then, 
home  with  all  the  fine  things  the  word  means  to  us, 
with  the  power  now  to  keep  them  fine.  The  war  has 
made  us  citizens  of  the  world,  as  such  we  will  be 
the  prouder  citizens  of  our  nation.  Home  then,  and 
America  I 


IV 

Lawrence  L.  Cassidy, 
Ordnance  Sergeant, 

Audit  &  Property  section,  O.C.O.O., 

Mehun-sur-Yvre  via  A.  P.  O.  741, 
A.  E.  F. 
Home  Address:  161  East  49th  Street, 
New  York  City,  New  York, 
U.S.A. 

The  very  mention  of  the  word  "Home"  brings  to 
the  mind  of  the  soldier  in  the  A.  E.  F.,  patiently 
awaiting  his  return  to  the  land  of  his  choice, 
thoughts,  memories  and  pictures  which  can  never  be 
effaced  and  which  seem  to  grow  more  vivid  as  his 
separation  continues.  Wherever  one  travels,  be  it 
among  those  engaged  in  the  new  Watch  on  the 
Rhine,  those  awaiting  the  word  which  is  to  bring 
them  to  their  ship,  those  occupied  with  the  manifold 
duties  of  the  S.  O.  S.  or  those  enjoying  for  a  few 
days  a  much  appreciated  leave  in  France,  England 
or  Italy,  he  finds  one  thought  predominating  in  the 
minds  of  the  soldiers  he  meets  and  when  he  questions 
them  relative  to  conditions,  they  reply  with  their 
invariable  question  "When  are  we  going  Home?" 

69 


70  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

No  matter  what  their  duties  or  their  obligations 
every  activity  is  aimed  toward  the  one  goal,  their 
return  to  America,  the  land  of  their  birth,  the  home 
of  their  pride  and  the  zone  of  their  ideals.  Flash 
on  a  screen  a  picture  of  the  Statue  of  Liberty;  sing 
a  tune  such  as  "Homeward  Bound,"  "My  Little 
Gray  Home  in  the  West,"  "Take  Me  Back  to  New 
York  Town,"  "Indiana,"  or  "Back  Home  in  Ten- 
nessee" ;  or  picture  some  scene  recognisable  as  a  sight 
familiar  to  American  life  and  note  the  expressions 
on  the  faces  of  your  soldier  audience.  Watch  them 
as  they  receive  mail  from  home  telling  of  relatives, 
friends  and  associates  who  have  returned  and  once 
more  are  resuming  the  life  interrupted  when  the 
fiendish  Hun  dared  place  his  selfish  ambitions  before 
every  principle  of  right,  justice  and  liberty.  Study 
him  as  he  writes  to  Mother,  Wife  or  Sweetheart. 
Do  one  or  any  of  these  things  and  you  learn  what 
Home  means  to  these  boys  who  willingly  gave  up  all 
when  the  call  came  but  who  did  so  only  because  their 
honour,  their  sense  of  justice  and  their  duties  to  their 
country  demanded  it.  They  have  concluded  that 
work  and  now  want  to  return  Home — Home  to 
loved  ones,  friends,  associates  and  business,  ever  to 
remain  until  they  have  completed  their  work  and 
are  called  to  the  everlasting  life  beyond  the  grave. 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  71 

•>_> ■ 

To  the  man  really  appreciative  of  his  Home, 
every  ambition  of  life  is  centred  in  that  direction. 
His  plans,  hopes  and  dreams  are  all  centralised  in 
the  ideal  that  the  consummation  of  his  activities 
might  make  life  easier,  happier  and  more  worth 
vt^hile  for  those  he  loves.  Unless  he  be  a  selfish  egcn 
tistical  miser,  and  history  records  but  few  of  such, 
he  hopes  for  success  and  works  for  progress  always 
with  the  aim  that  his  efforts  might,  even  though  in 
a  small  measure,  reciprocate  for  the  encouragement, 
patience,  forbearance  and  love  ever  shown  in  his 
Home.  Thus  it  is  that  you  find  him  reflecting 
seriously  on  the  duties  he  is  to  perform,  the  obli- 
gations he  is  to  assume  and  the  results  he  is  to 
accomplish  when  he  again  crosses  the  threshold.  His 
separation  has  given  him  many  opportunities  for 
introspection  and  now  he  knows  himself  better  and 
is  more  ready  to  assume  his  proper  sphere.  Let  us 
follow  him  to-day  as  he  builds  his  ''Chateaux  en 
Espagne." 

The  first  stage  of  his  thoughts  takes  the  natural 
form  of  a  period  of  retrospection  in  which  he  reviews 
his  previous  Home  life  and  compares  it  with  what  it 
should  have  been  had  he  properly  fulfilled  the  obli- 
gations he  now  knows  were  his  due.  Probably  one 
of  the  most  important  lessons  taught  him  during  his 


72  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

period  of  service  has  been  that  from  which  he  has 
learned  to  know  himself.  Prior  to  this  period  when 
he  was  literally  thrown  on  his  own  resources,  he 
had  never  appreciated  what  a  dependent  being  he 
really  was.  Before  this,  while  surrounded  by  the 
encouraging  assistance  and  guiding  influence  of  his 
Home,  he  assumed  an  independent  station  of  life 
and  pursued  his  activities  with  the  conviction  that 
whatever  success  accompanied  his  efforts  resulted 
solely  from  his  individual  ability.  Separated  from 
his  Home  and  the  encouraging  forbearance  ever 
shown  him  there,  he  realises  how  much  he  needs 
those  who  love  him  and  how  much  he  owes  them. 
As  a  result,  he  will  return  to  them  more  determined 
to  be  worthy  of  their  confidence  and  their  esteem. 
He  will  strive  to  make  his  Home  happier  for  those 
whom  he  now  has  learned  to  appreciate  more  and 
will  diligently  work  to  overcome  the  failings  he 
formerly  manifested  and  which  brought  so  much 
unhappiness  to  his  family. 

The  effect  of  the  new  life  he  manifests  in  his 
Home  will  be  further  reflected  in  his  country.  No 
nation  is  stronger  than  its  backbone,  and  the  back- 
bone of  the  nation  of  to-day  consists  of  an  infinite 
number  of  vertebrse,  the  families  from  which  that 
nation   has  grown.      The   consciousness   which   he 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  73 

developed  of  the  obligations  due  his  Home  will  be 
continued  in  the  consideration  of  the  obligations  due 
his  country.  He  is  returning  Home  as  a  man  ready- 
to  fulfill  his  every  obligation  and  assume  his  every 
responsibility.  His  period  in  the  military  service 
has  made  him  an  integral  factor  in  the  activities  of 
his  country  and  an  ardent  enthusiast  of  its  principles 
and  ideals.  He  has  been  brought  directly  into  con- 
tact with  one  of  his  greatest  projects  and  this  has 
resulted  in  a  keener  insight  of  matters  referring  to 
the  national  growth  and  development.  He  has  been 
keenly  awakened  to  the  questions  of  the  day  and  is 
carrying  back  with  him  opinions,  suggestions,  ambi- 
tions and  ideals  which  are  to  be  developed  as  he 
assumes  the  same  interest  in  civilian  life  that  he 
did  during  military  life.  And  his  word  must  and 
will  be  considered  seriously.  He  is  typical  of  the 
type  of  American  citizen  into  whose  hands  will  be 
delivered  the  future  of  our  country.  The  experience 
he  has  gained  through  his  communion  with  men 
from  all  sections  of  the  land,  his  observance  or  study 
of  life  as  it  progresses  in  European  countries  and  the 
general  knowledge  he  has  gained  make  him  admir- 
ably fit  to  bear  his  share  in  the  great  problems  of 
the  future. 

His  return  to  the  land  for  which  he  made  his 


74  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

sacrifice  will  be  accompanied  by  a  zeal,  an  enthusi- 
asm and  a  spirit  of  devotion  which  will  be  reflected 
in  a  higher  grade  of  patriotism  than  America  has 
ever  known  before.  "Absence  makes  the  heart  grow 
fonder,"  says  the  adage  and  well  do  we  see  this 
exemplified  in  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces. 
As  you  meet  the  American  soldier  in  France,  Italy, 
or  Germany,  ask  him  of  his  opinion  of  that  country. 
He  will  admit  that  he  has  found  some  things  of 
interest  and  that  the  particular  country  deserves 
some  credit  for  certain  achievements  but  invariably 
he  will  then  commence  to  glowingly  dilate  on  His 
country — ''God's  Country.'"  And  what  does  that 
mean?  Perhaps  you  will  say  his  enthusiasm  is 
simply  the  natural  result  of  the  relationship  of  his 
country  to  his  Home.  Even  were  this  so,  he  is  bound 
to  bear  a  more  devoted  allegiance  to  his  country  if 
only  for  the  reason  that  his  Home  prospers  accord- 
ing as  his  country  develops.  But  his  patriotism  is 
more  deep-rooted  than  that.  The  history  of  the  past 
two  years  in  which  America  has  stood  foremost 
among  the  nations  of  the  world  has  made  the 
American  citizen  appreciate  the  present  respon- 
sibility of  his  country  and  the  future  obligations  she 
will  be  called  upon  to  meet.  He  is  proud  of  that 
position  and  ambitious  of  doing  everything  in  his 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  75 

power  to  advance  her  cause.  He  knows  how  Amer- 
ica is  looked  up  to  by  the  people  of  the  other  coun- 
tries with  whom  he  has  come  in  contact  and  he  feels 
that  if  it  is  to  continue  to  be  so,  he  must  do  his 
share  in  the  work  necessary  to  this  end. 

The  interest  of  the  returning  soldier  citizen  will 
not  only  be  a  general  national  interest  but  will  also 
be  particularised  in  the  affairs  pertaining  to  the 
further  progress  of  his  own  village,  town,  city  or 
state.  He  has  met  men  from  all  sections  of  our 
broad  land ;  from  them,  he  has  learned  of  successful 
experiments  and  of  policies  which  have  resulted  in 
failure  and  disaster  and  he  has  been  brought  into 
contact  with  the  methods  of  hitherto  unknown  coun- 
tries. As  he  has  studied  these  things,  his  thoughts  of 
Home  have  caused  him  to  reflect  and  consider 
their  possible  effect  on  his  country.  When  he  re- 
turns, therefore,  his  mind  will  be  filled  with  these 
things  and  his  renewed  interest  in  the  future  progress 
and  development  of  his  country  will  cause  him  to 
give  expression  to  the  opinion  he  has  gathered.  The 
coming  age  is  to  be  a  period  of  reconstruction,  a 
stage  of  initiative  and  an  era  of  progress  and  the 
new  interest  of  the  soldier  citizen  will  be  an  im- 
portant factor  in  the  progress  of  the  future. 

The  third  duty  which  will  follow  from  the  sol- 


76  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

dier's  home-coming  and  the  one  which  stands  in  a 
logical  sequence  to  the  duties  he  owes  to  his  home 
and  his  country,  is  the  duty  to  himself.  His  period 
in  the  service  has  been  a  period  of  maturity  and  he 
is  now  anxious  to  take  his  part  in  the  activities  of 
his  station  of  life.  If  he  has  had  sufficient  fore- 
sight, he  has  taken  advantage  of  the  many  oppor- 
tunities to  better  himself  and  is  to-day  better  equip- 
ped than  ever  before.  His  absence  from  the  scene  of 
his  earlier  labours  has  whetted  his  ambition  and  he 
will  return  to  his  work  with  increased  enthusiasm. 
He  realises  that  because  of  the  broadening  expe- 
rience he  has  gained  much  is  expected  of  him 
and  he  wants  to  and  will  maintain  the  required 
standard. 

Morally  his  sense  of  right  and  justice  has  been 
developed,  his  principles  have  been  strengthened  and 
his  belief  in  tolerance  and  respect  of  the  rights  of 
others  extended.  As  a  result  of  the  trying  times  he 
spent  during  the  bloody  days  of  battle,  he  has  given 
much  thought  to  the  day  when  he  will  have  con- 
cluded his  work  in  this  world  and  pass  to  a  land 
eternal.  He  has  learned  to  appreciate  also  that  life 
in  the  World  of  the  future  is  to  be  gauged  by  his 
actions  in  this  life  and  that  to  be  worthy  of  the 
reward  of  a  future  life  of  happiness,  he  must  now 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  77 

conduct  himself  in  conformity  with  the  highest  prin- 
ciple of  truth,  honesty,  morality,  justice  and  virtue. 
He  appreciates,  therefore,  that  he  must  establish  a 
standard  in  his  daily  activities  which  will  conform 
to  these  principles  and  make  him  worthy  of  the 
reward.  If  you  talk  to  him  in  this  connection,  you 
will  first  find  him  repentant  for  the  errors  he  has 
made  in  the  past  and  resolved  that  not  only 
shall  these  be  blotted  out  in  the  future  but  his 
further  actions  act  as  an  antidote  for  those  of  the 
past. 

Thus  will  the  terrible  catastrophe  which  has 
brought  so  much  pain  and  anguish,  misery  and  deso- 
lation, sorrow  and  unhappiness  to  the  world  at  the 
same  time  bring  a  new  era  of  peace,  happiness  and 
progress.  From  the  Pagan  lands  of  the  ancient  Sultan 
to  the  land  of  the  ever  struggling  but  constantly 
faithful  Francois,  from  the  land  of  the  setting  sun  to 
the  home  of  the  defeated  Hun,  from  one  end  of  the 
globe  to  the  other,  the  people  have  been  awakened  to 
a  keener  insight  of  their  duties,  their  possibilities  and 
their  obligations.  Before  the  world  lies  an  age  of 
reconstruction,  a  period  of  initiative  and  a  time  of 
interest.  Idle  will  be  the  citizen  who  does  not 
measure  up  to  the  required  standard  and  negligent 
will  be  the  people  who  heed  not  the  voice  of  those 


78  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

who  successfully  emerged  from  the  period  of  trial 
with  a  greater  knowledge  and  a  broader  experience. 
In  no  place  more  than  our  own  America  will  this  be 
more  typically  exemplified.  Of  all  the  nations,  we 
to-day  stand  pre-eminent  carrying  with  that  position 
a  host  of  new  responsibilities  which  can  not  and 
must  not  be  gainsaid. 

The  responsibilities  incumbent  on  our  country 
during  the  period  of  the  great  crisis  have  been  re- 
flected in  the  diversified  interest  of  the  people,  new 
industries  have  sprung  up  over  night,  older  develop- 
ments have  been  entirely  reorganised  and  everywhere 
a  new  enthusiasm  and  a  more  general  occupation 
have  resulted.  This  will  continue  and  the  man  who 
is  to  occupy  a  topmost  part  in  this  new  life  is  he  who 
has  learned  from  the  experience  gained  during  his 
service  in  the  A.  E.  F.  To-day  he  may  not  be  cogni- 
sant of  his  future  but  to-morrow  he  will  come  forth 
and  take  his  stand.  Let  us  recognise  his  worth  and 
hasten  to  extend  the  hand  of  encouragement  which 
will  result  in  success  and  happiness  not  only  to  him 
but  to  us;  his  family,  his  friends  and  his  compatriots. 
But  if  we  listen  not  to  his  voice  or  heed  not  his  exam- 
ple, it  will  go  to  peoples  worthier  than  we,  for  as  the 
sun  after  sinking  beneath  the  horizon  leaves  nothing 
but  gloom,  so  the  light  of  encouraging  initiative,  on 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  79 


departing,  will  be  followed  by  the  darkness  and 
chaos  of  anarchy  and  Socialism,  harbingers  of  chains 
of  slavery  and  of  barbarism. 


Wm.  J.  Chipman, 

Serg.  Hdq.  Det.,  1st  Replacement  Depot, 
A.P.O.  727,  A.E.F. 

Home  Address:  239  W.  103rd  St., 
New  York. 

We  are  all  going  home — sometime.  Perhaps  we 
have  had  too  much  time  since  the  eleventh  of  last 
November  in  which  to  let  our  minds  dwell  upon  that 
subject;  perhaps  we  have  built  too  many  fairy 
castles  that  are  too  perfect  ever  to  come  true;  per- 
haps we  have  formed  entirely  too  many  plans  for 
our  future.  But,  at  all  events,  we  are  going  home; 
and  it  is  my  fear  that  the  cynical  observation  about 
the  realisation  not  being  half  as  pleasant  as  the  ex- 
pectation will  be  all  too  true. 

It  most  certainly  is  not  my  intention  to  try  to  cast 
a  wet  blanket  over  our  home-going  enthusiasm;  but 
I  am  afraid^  that  many  of  us,  like  myself,  have 
painted  our  futures  in  too  brilliant  colours;  and  that 
we  ought  to  wake  up  and  analyse  what  is  ahead 
of  us. 

Again — we  are  going  home.  Be  it  Boston  or 
Birmingham  or  New  York  or  New  Orleans,  we  are 

80 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  81 

going  there.  Even  though  it  be  only  Owensboro  or 
Kankakee,  we  are  going. 

And  there  will  be  the  expected  welcome  (America 
has  not  forgotten  the  war  entirely).  The  smaller 
our  home  town,  the  more  general  will  the  welcome 
be.  But  with  the  initial  flush  of  home-coming  over, 
our  minds  v/ill  revert  to  more  serious  thought — ; 
thoughts  that  may  never  have  presented  themselves 
while  we  were  in  France. 

The  most  of  us  will  begin  to  hunt  for  a  job  (or  a 
position,  if  you  prefer  to  designate  it  as  such).  For 
what  kind  of  a  situation  are  we  going  to  seek? 

All  of  us  are  going  to  have  a  hght  against  letting 
our  ambition  carry  us  away.  I  am  afraid  that  all  of 
us  are  going  to  try  to  locate  positions  that  are  ab- 
normally better  than  those  which  we  left.  What  are 
we  going  to  find*? 

We  ought  to  thank  all  things  holy  that  we  live 
in  the  United  States  where  labour  and  economical 
difficulties  are  at  the  irreducible  minimum;  but  we 
must  realise  that  that  irreducible  minimum  is  pres- 
ent, and  that  it  is  liable  to  cause  some  unrest. 

We  have  only  to  refer  to  history  to  realise  that 
there  has  been  attendant  upon  every  demobilisation, 
from  Biblical  times  down  to  the  present,  a  demoral- 
ised economic  condition.     Inflated  finances,  going 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


back  to  their  normal  level,  create  fictitious  values 
throughout  our  entire  business  and  industrial  fabric. 
Consequently,  even  in  a  country  as  strong  financially 
as  ours,  there  must  be  a  certain  amount  of  unrest. 

There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  be  able  to 
secure  our  old  jobs  again,  if  we  want  them;  and  we 
have  every  opportunity  to  secure  better  ones.  But 
we  must  not  be  unreasonable  in  our  demands. 

Naturally,  all  of  us  want  to  place  ourselves  in 
positions  that  are  better  than  those  we  left,  if  pos- 
sible. That  is  a  quite  commendable  instinct.  It  is  a 
human  instinct,  and,  even  more,  it  is  an  American 
instinct.  But,  even  so,  we  must  throttle  our  ambi- 
tion into  the  proper  channel,  and  settle  down  and 
choose  an  objective  intelligently. 

That  lack  of  any  objective  is  apt  to  prove  most 
disastrous  to  many  of  us.  The  free  and  easy  life  of 
the  army  (even  including  all  of  its  hardships)  has 
fostered  a  shiftless,  hand-to-mouth  spirit,  and  there 
is  too  much  probability  that  we  shall  be  willing  to 
take  things  as  they  come  when  we  get  home. 

If  you  were  a  banker  before  the  war,  try  first  to 
go  back  to  a  bank.  If  you  were  a  hod-carrier,  start 
at  it  again,  and  try  to  carry  one  better  and  more 
efficiently  than  the  next  man.  But  set  an  objective 
for  yourself  and  strive  to  achieve  it. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  85 

The  war  has  shot  Northern  France  up  rather  effi- 
ciently: but  it  has  not  changed  the  habits  of  the 
world  in  general.  Despite  the  fifty  thousand  Amer- 
icans that  lie  cold  in  the  valley  of  the  Meuse,  we 
shall  find,  when  we  get  back  home,  that  the  war  has 
made  no  material  difference  in  the  business  methods 
of  our  country. 

It  will  be  hard,  after  the  glamour  of  the  army,  to 
resign  ourselves  to  settling  down  anywhere — let 
alone  in  some  small  town.  But  that  is  just  exactly 
what  we  must  do,  if  we  hope  to  go  through  the 
period  of  reorganisation  with  the  minimum  of  fric- 
tion. 

After  travelling  from  San  Francisco  to  Coblenz, 
it  may  be  hard  to  settle  down  in  Oakland  and  pursue 
some  undramatic  and  uninteresting  course  of  busi- 
ness ;  but  that  is  what  we  must  do.  We  must  not  let 
the  wander-lust  grip  us,  or  we  will  all  be  riding  side- 
door  Pullmans  before  the  end  of  two  years. 

You  are  going  home — let  us  suppose  that  it  is 
Charleston,  West  Virginia.  Let  us  suppose  further 
that  you  drove  a  butcher's  waggon  in  Charleston, 
and  that,  by  some  freak  of  fate,  you  were  a  regi- 
mental adjutant  during  the  war. 

When  you  get  back  there,  you  will  be  welcomed 
by  Bill  Smith,  who  owns  the  butcher  shop,  and  by 


84  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

I  : 

your  family  and  friends,  and  by  other  more  or  less 
well-known  local  dignitaries;  but  there  won't  be 
any  fresh  paint  on  the  butcher's  waggon,  and  the 
old  mare  may  still  be  limping.  Nevertheless  the 
butcher  may  have  been  kind  enough  to  save  your 
job  for  you,  and  if  he  has,  take  it. 

We  have  had  too  much  time  in  which  to  dream; 
but  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  get  along 
as  well  as  we  did  before  the  war,  or  better  if  we 
are  only  able  to  think  instead  of  dream.  We  are 
going  home — and  we  ought  to  be  glad. 


VI 

Richard  V.  Fealy, 

Sgt.  1  c.  170th  Aero  Squadron, 
Camp  Pontanezen,  A. P.O.  7 16. 
Home  Address:  St.  Helena, 

California. 

The  "tin-horns"  have  told  the  folks  at  home  the 
story  from  their  point  of  view.  Boys,  they  want 
political  jobs  or  notoriety.  We  will  not  take  issue 
with  them  on  the  point  that  America's  force  did 
bring  about  the  ''finish"  on  November  11th;  we 
know  too  much  about  the  A.  E.  F.  to  deny  America 
that  credit.  But  if  our  efficiency  in  governmental 
departments  be  gauged  according  to  the  standard  of 
American  business  institutions  instead  of  by  com- 
parison with  the  corresponding  departments  of  other 
governments — what  is  the  ratio  of  cost  and  accom- 
plishment? 

Have  we,  as  soldiers,  had  experiences  in  the  States 
and  "Over  here"  that  will  enable  us  to  be  better 
citizens  when  we  return  to  civilian  life*?  Are  we, 
those  of  us  who,  by  our  age,  have  enjoyed  the  priv- 
ilege of  voting,  going  back  to  the  ruts  that  we  came 
out  of  when  we  wanted  to  "do  our  bit"  for  the 

85 


86  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

i  ■'■— ? 

country;  the  governmental  departments  of  which  wc 
knew  so  little  because  we,  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  fol- 
lowed a  leader  to  the  polls'?  Or  will  we  assume  thi„ 
responsibility  that  is  ours  and  contribute  (by  partic- 
ipation) to  the  ''Government  of  the  people^  by  the 
people^  for  the  people''  ^ 

Are  you,  the  lads  who  have  attained  your  majority 
since  you  entered  the  service,  going  to  make  the  same 
mistakes  that  we  "old  timers"  must  confess?  Or 
shall  we  all  forget  our  army  slogan,  *'Pass  the 
Buck,"  come  out  of  our  "shells"  to  enlighten  those 
who  do  not  know,  just  what  actual  conditions  have 
been?  Are  we  going  to  tell  them  how  the  "hand-sha- 
kers," beginning  with  those  who  used  "politics"  at 
the  officers'  training  camps  and  Ordnance  Depart- 
ment down  to  the  dog- robbers  (officers'  servants) 
"worked  the  old  army  game"  to  the  detriment  of  the 
service  and  hardships  of  the  enlisted  personnel? 
About  the  grafters  at  the  Kelly  Field  canteens  who 
charged  us  more  for  fruit,  candy,  and  cigarettes  than 
the  San  Antonio  merchants,  simply  because  we  were 
rookies  and  did  not  know  how  to  get  a  pass  to  town? 

How  the  "Top-kick"  who  was  appointed  by  the 
"Prep  school  for  Freshy"  officer  (the  product  of  the 
above  mentioned  O.  T.  C.)  "climbed  3^our  frame" 
because  the  washing  you  did  the  night  before  wa« 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  8T 

hanging  in  the  barracks  to  dry  at  inspection  time 
instead  of  hanging  on  a  line  out  in  the  rain*?  How 
the  "SM"  (another  appointee  of  said  efficient  offi- 
cer) nearly  snapped  your  head  off  when  you  tried  to 
tell  him  that  your  folks  were  not  receiving  your 
allotment  *?  Of  the  nights  we  laid  awake  in  our  Eng- 
lish and  French  "downy  couches"  listening  to  the 
drunken  brawls  that  the  senior  non-com  would  not 
put  down  because  he  lacked  the  courage  *? 

Qf  the  Mess  Sergeant  (another  no  less  important 
appointee)  who  would  explain  that  he  couldn't 
spare  any  "seconds-on-slum"  because  the  cooks  had 
cut  too  many  steaks  for  themselves  and  their  ''pets"? 
Of  the  times  you  came  to  breakfast  from  all-night 
guard,  wearing  size  19  overshoes  (that  had  to  be 
handed  over  to  the  new  guard  after  guard-mount), 
with  the  thermometer  at  40  below,  to  get  an  apple, 
two  tablespoonsful  of  cornflakes,  a  slice  of  bread 
and  a  cup  of  lukewarm  water  (in  which  the  coffee 
bag  had  been  washed)  and  had  the  Mess  Sergeant 
tell  you  that  the  kitchen  crew  consisted  of  black- 
smiths instead  of  cooks'? 

How  one  of  the  outfit  was  re-classified  after  an  op- 
eration and  sent  home  because  the  Medical  Officer 
(so  called)  kept  feeding  him  "OD"  pills  instead  of 
sending  him  to  some  real  doctors  before  it  was  nearly 


88  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

I 

too  late  to  operate  *?  Of  the  evening  you  spent  ex- 
plaining away  an  insult  to  an  English  girl  by  at- 
tributing it  to  "ignorance  of  a  foreigner"  and  as- 
suring her  that  he  was  the  exception,  to  come  upon 
some  American  officers,  "hilariously  lit,"  entertaining 
some  of  the  public  women  of  the  city*? 

Hbw,  after  the  armistice  was  signed,  we  began 
"dismantling"  planes  with  sledge  hammers  and  "re- 
moving" the  tires  from  the  wheels  of  the  under- 
carriages with  picks  ^  One  of  the  Hispano-Suiza 
motors  taken  out  of  said  planes  would  cost  an  indi- 
vidual a  small  fortune,  but  of  course  the  government 
did  not  pay  retail  prices;  however,  it  could  have 
sold  them  as  used-motors  for  a  better  price  than  sal- 
vaged metal  would  bring;  but  that  did  not  seem  to 
be  a  consideration,  we  proceeded  with  the  destruc- 
tion of  high-priced  equipment  but  had  to  steal  out 
to  the  thicket  to  chop  down  a  shrub  for  firewood 
because  we  "had  overdrawn  our  allotment  of  fuel 
for  the  period." 

Are  we  going  to  "be  sports"  and  "hush-up"  these 
and  the  thousand-and-one  other  humiliations,  incon- 
veniences and  wastes  that  we  could  write  pages  about 
when  the  rest  of  the  world  is  making  its  estimates 
of  America  and  its  methods  by  such  acts^  Are  we, 
when  given  the  opportunity,  going  to  support  the 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  89 

party  or  individual  who  does  not  propose  reform  of 
such  policies?  Are  we  going  to  make  him  prove, 
by  his  past  performances,  that  he  is  sincere  and  ca- 
pable of  "clean  fighting"  to  see  an  issue  through? 

Let  us  also  wake  up  fully  to  the  realisation  that 
"serving  for  duration"  is  a  decided  contrast  to  the 
"old  job  under  the  old  boss."  The  "Non-Com  I  C" 
could  only  "queer"  us  for  a  "stripe"  or  a  pass  when 
our  "Uncle"  boarded  us  just  the  same;  but  the  "ole 
boss-man"  not  only  says,  "I  won't  give  you  promo- 
tion," he  also  says,  "If  you  don't  'hit  the  ball'  you 
can't  live  on  me."  But  let  us  not  be  actuated  by 
such  motives  (doing  things  because  we  are  com- 
pelled to) ;  America  could  have  avoided  participa- 
tion in  the  war,  but  did  we  want  her  to?  Did  we 
not,  as  Americans — standing  for  what  we  do,  owe 
it  to  humanity  to  do  what  we  could  for  the  cause  of 
Rights 

We,  you  and  I,  Buddy,  the  Smith  kid,  and  the  oth- 
ers were  delegated  to  execute  the  task  undertaken  in" 
our  behalf  by  our  President  and  Congress;  we  "put 
the  job  over";  now  and  when  we  reach  home  again, 
let's  live  up  to  our  reputations. 


VII 

Lewis  D.  Henderson, 
Private  Co.  I,   130th  Inf., 

University  Student  Detachment, 
Edinburgh,  Scotland. 
Home  Address:  West  Liberty,  Iowa. 

Being  a  doughboy  it  has  been  my  object  for  many 
months  to  observe  my  own  species  in  the  various 
periods  of  training,  actual  fighting,  and  armistice. 
I  have  watched  the  Yanks  develop  through  an  im- 
portant series  of  changes  which  attach  a  great  in- 
terest to  their  re-entrance  into  civilian  life.  These 
men,  drawn  originally  from  all  departments  and 
walks  of  society,  donned  the  common  uniform,  took 
on  a  new  levelled-off  relationship  and  became  pres- 
to-change, a  distinct  class.  They  had  to  learn  the 
technique  of  living  in  masses  and  many  adaptations 
were  required.  The  camp,  the  hike,  the  billet,  the 
trench  and  dugout,  the  conflict  and  all  the  associa- 
tions of  war  have  wrought  lasting  effects  into  their 
characters,  some  for  better,  often  for  worse.  Con- 
tact with  foreign  and  kindred  people  under  the  stress 
of  a  common  cause  has  broadened  their  outlook  and 
given  them  a  bigger  notion  of  the  world.    The  man 

90 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  91 

who  comes  home  is  not  the  same  lad  who  left  a 
short  time  ago. 

Nor  do  we  suppose  they  are  returning  to  the  same 
homes  that  sent  them,  to  a  people  unchanged  by  the 
disturbance  of  the  world.  The  development  there 
has  been  the  complement  of  the  development  in  the 
army.  The  responsibility  for  maintaining  the  army 
in  the  field,  which  was  discharged  with  notable  loy- 
alty and  sacrifice,  produced  a  corresponding  growth. 
The  people,  having  before  them  even  more  than  the  \ 
soldiers  did,  the  ideals  we  were  upholding,  have  j 
greatly  broadened  their  sympathies  and  interests  in 
the  world.  Their  desire  for  more  natural  and  hu- 
man conditions  in  all  activities  of  life  has  taken  on 
a  new  meaning.  It  is  quite  obvious  then  that  the 
reunion  of  these  citizens  of  the  world  with  the  mem- 
bers of  the  disbanding  army  has  in  it  elements  of 
great  possibility  for  the  future. 

Different  courses  will  naturally  be  presented  to 
different  men  when  they  find  themselves  free  again. 
Some  will  find  it  hard  to  settle  into  routine  life  for 
a  while ;  some  will  find  it  impossible  to  begin  where 
they  left  off  and  will  want  to  take  up  something 
entirely  new ;  others  find  their  connections  so  broken 
they  don't  know  where  they  stand  and  will  drift  into 
the  line  of  least  resistance.     But  the  great  majority 


92  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

have  pretty  well  defined  plans  as  to  what  they  will 
do  and  are  anxious  to  plunge  into  civil  life  again. 
Apart  from  their  individual  schemes  we  know  that 
in  the  course  of  time,  they  will  go  home,  get  into  a 
suit  of  clothes,  go  to  work,  establish  homes,  and  in 
general  be  loyal  citizens  of  the  United  States.  But 
this  process  will  go  on  in  a  different  spirit  and  with 
a  wider  outlook  than  would  have  been  possible  with- 
out the  war  experience,  and  the  difference  will  be 
particularly  marked  in  the  attitude  of  most  citizens 
toward,  and  their  handling  of  public  questions,  both 
national  and  international. 

America  emerges  from  the  crisis  to  find  that  the 
old  order  has  passed  away  and  that  many  new  prob- 
lems meet  her  on  the  threshold  of  the  new  era.  She 
has  acquired  a  degree  of  national  unity  unknown  be- 
fore. Whereas  the  Spanish-American  War  united 
different  regions  with  a  bond  of  common  interest,  the 
past  war  has  welded  our  various  nationalities  into 
greater  solidarity.  Where  is  the  hyphen  now? 
American  citizenship  has  acquired  a  more  vital 
meaning  and  is  appreciated  by  more  people  than 
ever  before.  Our  national  ideals  which  have  been 
slowly  emerging  have  come  to  the  front  and  we  find 
ourselves  entering  on  a  more  conscious  and  deter- 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  9S 

mined  campaign  to  amalgamate  the  heterogeneous 
elements  of  our  state. 

But  Americanism  is  only  a  step  in  the  realisation 
of  the  international  spirit  which  has  developed. 
The  isolation  of  the  past  has  faded  away,  the  world 
just  naturally  evolving  past  that  stage  of  develop- 
ment. It  was  the  idea  of  isolation  that  allowed 
England  to  countenance  Germany's  programme  of 
plundering  her  neighbours  for  many  years  and  duped 
the  Kaiser's  government  into  believing  she  would 
permit  the  murder  of  France.  The  same  policy  kept 
America  out  of  the  war  for  four  years  but  it  finally 
had  to  give  way  and  the  greatest  lesson  we  have 
learned  is  the  utter  futility  of  trying  to  live  unto 
ourselves  alone  any  longer.  We  must  put  a  large 
measure  of  faith  in  the  League  of  Nations. 

The  doughboys  are  strong  for  it.  Every  one  left 
asleep  in  Europe  is  a  spokesman  in  its  behalf.  They 
don't  understand  all  the  technicalities  of  the  League 
or  of  the  peace  settlement — neither  do  the  folks  at 
home.  The  multiplicity  of  problems  rising  out  of 
the  very  completeness  of  our  victory  make  it  a  mat- 
ter for  experts  to  deal  with.  But  they  are  satisfied 
that  the  enemy  was  defeated  and  is  being  fairly  and 
firmly  held  to  account.  They  feel  confident  that  a 
repetition  of  his  crimes  cannot  be  again  attempted 


Q4>  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

with  impunity  by  any  nation  and  they  are  thankful 
for  a  few  statesmen  who  could  put  the  last  part  of 
the  programme  across  while  the  army  lay  comfort- 
ably by  the  Rhine.  They  recognise  in  the  series  of 
compromises,  material  for  future  controversy.  They 
do  not  think  the  plan  is  perfect,  but  knowing  that  it 
has  a  rough  road  to  travel  they  intend  to  see  that  it 
gets  a  square  deal  at  home. 

These  men  have  been  learning  tangible  lessons  of 
world  citizenship  abroad.  Travel  usually  broadens 
a  person  and  a  peep  into  Europe  even  under  war 
conditions  has  no  mean  significance  to  so  large  a 
force.  They  have  fought  side  by  side  and  associ- 
ated with  the  British  Tommy,  the  French  "Poilu" 
and  Colonials  from  various  quarters  of  the  globe. 
While  learning  to  admire  and  respect  the  English 
they  have  been  unlearning  some  pernicious  ideas 
imbibed  from  their  Elementary  School  Histories. 
Life  in  Germany  has  served  to  raise  their  estima- 
tion of  the  French  and  the  more  they  think  about  it 
the  more  they  wonder  how  France  could  take  so 
much  punishment  from  the  foe  in  his  prime  and  yet 
come  back  with  a  vital  punch  in  the  last  days  of 
fighting.  They  realise  that  success  for  a  long  time 
must  depend  on  Anglo-French  unity,  friendship,  and 
co-operation  and  they  do  not  figure  on  slighting  their 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  95 

end  of  the  responsibilities.  They  have  decided  that 
the  League  shall  be  a  success  and  this  decision  will 
colour  their  votes  and  other  activities  of  citizenship 
to  a  great  extent. 

So  the  fellows  who  came  over  here  in  defense  of 
an  ideal,  backed  by  a  loyal  people  united  in  their 
support  of  that  ideal,  are  returning  with  a  new  ideal. 
Adjustments  have  occurred  in  their  ideas  and  atti- 
tudes and  they  expect  to  find  similar  adjustments 
among  those  whom  they  have  not  seen  for  some  time. 
They  want  to  be  received  quietly  by  their  friends 
and  loved  ones,  to  be  turned  loose  in  society  again, 
and  above  all,  to  get  to  work. 

They  will  get  busy  carving  out  their  own  futures, 
meanwhile  watching  jealously  the  safety  of  democ- 
racy in  America  as  well  as  the  World.  They  will 
prepare  for  peace  as  never  before.  Remembering 
the  part  they  took  in  destroying  militarism  they  will 
prevent  America  from  establishing  a  system  of  uni- 
versal or  compulsory  military  training.  Military 
organisation  is  essentially  undemocratic  and  they 
will  not  allow  it  to  menace  our  institutions.  Some 
problems  have  fortunately  been  settled  in  their  ab- 
sence. They  will  do  what  they  can  to  help  out  with 
those  remaining  and  the  new  ones.  It  is  therefore 
with  good  reason  that  we  look  to  the  years  imme- 


96  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

diately  ahead  to  be  most  fruitful  in  progress  and 
the  growth  of  a  world-wide  unity.  In  boosting  de- 
velopment at  home  and  abroad  we  shall  not  depart 
from  the  true  spirit  of  our  traditions.  Entangling 
alliances  is  not  part  of  the  programme  but  a  real 
world-wide  co-operation  to  maintain  freedom  and 
justice. 


VIII 

Anton  Jensen, 
Sorbonne  Det., 

A.P.O.  702,  A.E.F. 
Home  Address:  Blair,  Nebraska. 

Home — then  what?  No,  that  spirit  is  not  of 
their  temper  born.  Heaven  forbid  I  To  waver  tim- 
idly in  the  face  of  to-morrow  is  not  their  part.  Home 
— then  what  I  That  is  their  spirit,  the  spirit  of  the 
soldiers  homeward  bound,  the  spirit  that  cries,  "For- 
ward and  onward  I"  It  is  the  only  one  the  boys 
knew  whether  in  the  home  camps,  in  the  ceaseless, 
straining  toil  behind  the  lines,  or  on  the  field  of  bat- 
tle itself.  It  is  the  same  spirit  with  which  America 
threw  herself  into  the  war.  It  is  the  spirit  of  the 
pioneer  and  of  the  pilgrim;  it  is  the  spirit  bred  in 
America's  veins  long  ago.  With  that  self-same 
spirit  America's  own  return. 

Home — then  what  I  Home  to  make  the  most  of 
what  they  were  before  their  term  in  the  service. 
Home  to  make  the  most  of  their  experiences  and  les- 
sons gained  in  the  service.  Which  will  be  the  de- 
cisive factor  in  their  future;  their  previous  training 

or  their  recent  experiences?    For  the  majority,  their 

l97 


98  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

previous  training.  So  fundamental  in  its  effects,  so 
modern  in  its  application,  so  comprehensive  in  its 
scope,  so  inspiring  in  its  vision  has  been  that  pre- 
vious training  that  whatever  worth  while  they  have 
learned  in  the  service  or  seen  abroad  will  become 
more  or  less  supplementary  to  their  previous  train- 
ing; whatever  unfortunate  results,  surprising  few  as 
they  are,  that  this  period  has  produced,  will  soon 
be  lost  in  the  return  to  civilian  life.  The  American 
army  has  not  been  and  is  not  solely  an  army;  it  has 
been  and  is  a  civilian  army  with  strong  emphasis 
on  the  word  "civilian." 

What  then  are  the  results  of  this  period  the  boys 
spent  in  the  service*?  Mainly  two;  certain  definite 
and  specific  results  that  may  be  looked  forward  to, 
and  a  broader  concept  of  life.  The  definite  and  spe- 
cific results  flow  from  two  sources:  army  training 
itself  and  what  they  saw  "over  there." 

In  the  training  camps  they  gained  a  better  ap- 
preciation of  health  and  education.  In  so  far  as  the 
training  itself  was  concerned  the  new  health  and  vi- 
tality of  the  men  was  the  most  significant  fact.  It 
was  not  so  much  the  result  of  an  eternal  "squads 
right"  and  "squads  left,"  "shoulder  arms"  and  "or- 
der arms,"  endless  inspections  and  more  endless 
hikes  as  much  as  it  was  the  result  of  the  regularity 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  99 

of  life  and  the  introduction  of  athletics  as  a  vital 
part  of  the  military  training.  They  learned  through 
experience  of  the  value  of  the  observance  of  every 
principle  of  hygiene  and  sanitation.  As  for  educa- 
tional training  they  saw  that  even  successful  war- 
fare was  a  varied  scientific  and  business  proposition 
as  much  as  anything  else.  Those  who  had  enjoyed 
a  fair  share  of  education  saw  the  necessity  for  main- 
taining that  advantage;  those  who  were  illiterate, 
and,  frankly,  they  were  numbered  by  the  tens  of 
thousands,  were  assisted  along  the  right  road  and  if 
nothing  else  they  at  least  acquired  a  longing  for  edu- 
cational essentials.  So  then,  as  a  specific  result  of 
that  military  training,  there  has  been  shown  the  ne- 
cessity for  greater  stress,  nationally,  on  matters  of 
health  and  education. 

"Over  there"  whatever  they  saw  they  saw  with  a 
critical  eye.  Whatever  could  better  America  they 
quickly  acclaimed;  whatever  could  not  meet  their 
approval  they  as  ruthlessly  condemned.  They  saw  a 
system  of  excellent  highways  with  also  an  absence 
of  grade  crossings.  They  saw  a  greater  regard  for 
safety  in  railway  travel.  America,  they  will  insist, 
must  pay  a  similar  respect  for  the  safety  of  the 
public.  They  saw  beautiful  monuments  and  build- 
ings of  art.    They  saw,  in  the  larger  cities,  an  abun- 


100  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

dance  of  beautiful  public  gardens,  parks,  and  boule- 
vards. It  appealed  to  their  sense  of  civic  beauty. 
There  will  be  some  other  material  results  each  in 
its  own  peculiar  field.  In  the  matter  of  industry 
and  business  enterprise  there  will  be  a  singular  va- 
cancy of  ideas.  Here  America  need  fear  no  revolu- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  home-coming  soldiers.  These 
then  are  the  more  or  less  specific  results  that  may  be 
looked  forward  to. 

Out  of  the  war  has  arisen  a  new  comradeship.  It 
is  one  element  in  a  broader  concept  of  life.  The 
plainsmen  have  found  real  pals  in  the  sons  of  New 
York.  Boys  from  the  land  of  the  Golden  Gate  have 
sat  for  hours  to  listen  as  in  a  soft-accented  drawl 
southern  lads  told  of  life  and  home  in  Georgia  or 
Alabama.  In  the  boys  of  the  twenty-ninth,  who 
wore  the  emblem  of  the  Blue  and  the  Grey,  was  seen 
a  striking  example  of  the  unity  of  comradeship.  At 
their  side  fought  men  from  other  lands.  There  were 
the  Australians,  whom  they  came  to  know  as  men 
after  their  own  hearts.  There  were  the  Canadians, 
and  the  English  and  the  Scots.  There  was  the 
French  poilu,  an  example  of  steadfastness  and  en- 
durance. So,  within  their  own  ranks  the  boys  have 
felt  the  unity  of  a  national  comradeship;  in  those 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  101 

who  fought  at  their  side  they  have  seen  the  possi- 
bility of  a  greater  future  comradeship. 

A  greater  love  for  democracy  is  another  heritage 
of  their  recent  experience.  Class  distinction  they 
came  to  hate  more  than  ever.  In  the  orphan^,  and 
in  the  children  the  American  soldier  found  the  truest 
democracy  for  these  were  class  unconscious.  These 
found  a  place  in  the  soldiers'  hearts.  The  humble 
peasant  might  compete  for  a  place  in  the  American 
soldier's  heart,  but  none  could  displace  the  chil- 
dren's spot  in  that  heart.  Military  class  only  made 
the  soldiers  love  democracy  more. 

There  is  another  message  they  bring  back — a  mes- 
sage written  large  in  letters  of  red:  sacrifice.  Sac- 
rifice !  They  came  here  to  sacrifice !  There  are  the 
graves  of  those  who  made  the  supreme  sacrifice. 
There  are  those  upon  whose  right  sleeve  a  chevron 
of  gold  tells  of  another  sacrifice.  There  are  those 
who  fought  with  them,  spared  the  foeman's  steel  but 
as  ready  for  sacrifice  as  those  who  fell.  There  arc 
those  who  knew  the  sacrifice  of  a  ceaseless  strain 
that  ran  clear  back  to  the  port  where  incoming  ves- 
sels dropped  anchor.  Sacrifices.  They  saw  it  in 
others.  They  saw  it  in  those  who  came  here  on  a 
mission  of  comfort.    They  saw  it  in  those  who  came 


lOS  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT? 

here  at  mercy's  call.  They  know  full  well  the  mean- 
ing of  sacrifice. 

They  return  with  hope  for  they  saw  how  the 
peasants  return  to  their  homes.  Come  with  them  a 
moment  in  their  refugee  trains.  Here  pass  homes 
crumbled  to  heaps  of  stone,  villages  wrecked  by  the 
hurricane  of  war,  fields  scarred  by  the  conflict  of 
battle.  But  the  peasants  go  back  to  build  anew,  to 
strive  on.  There  are  the  orchards  never  to  bear 
again.  Not  a  tree  stands  upright,  trees  that,  spared 
the  saw,  might  have  eased  with  their  fruits  the  life  of 
the  returning  peasant.  There  they  are  like  so  many 
stalks  when  the  reaper's  blade  has  passed.  Why 
talk  of  hope  of  to-morrow  when  all  around  is  ruin 
and  despair.  See !  Half-erect,  half-seated  the  refu- 
gees are  looking  at — at  what?  What  can  they  see 
in  that  hopeless  field?     What  can  they  see  in  that 

treeless  plain?    "Mais  ils  flourissent "  and  then 

in  a  cry  half-joyous,  half-defiant,  "quand  memel" 
Count  those  trees,  if  you  have  the  heart.  One  out 
of  twelve,  one  out  of  ten,  at  the  most,  is  in  blossom. 
Through  a  little  strip  of  wood  and  bark,  where  the 
Hunnish  saw  failed  to  completely  sever  the  trunk, 
flows  a  tiny  stream  of  sap.  Thus  amidst  a  world 
of  ruin  and  despair  the  peasant  rises  to  cry,  "But 
they  bloom — for  all  that !"    Oh,  you  who  are  stran- 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  lOS 

gers  to  hope,  come  seat  yourself  at  the  feet  of  the  re- 
turning soldiers  as  they  tell  of  that  hope  bred  of 
despair.  They  have  seen  it.  They  have  lived  with 
it.    Many  a  time  hope  was  their  one  and  all. 

If  they  bring  back  anything  greater  than  this  hope 
it  is  something  akin  to  that  hope;  a  new  faith  in 
America.  It  is  not  an  Americanism  that  defies  the 
world  with  a  rattle  of  sabres  and  a  clanging  of 
spurs.  They  saw  that  in  the  foe  and  came  to  hate 
it  more  than  ever  before.  Theirs  is  an  Americanism 
tempered  amid  bitter  trial.  It  is  an  Americanism 
that  stands  for  real  progress,  but  not  disorder.  It  is 
an  Americanism  that  stands  for  hope.  They  came 
to  love  America  more,  not  so  much  for  what  she  is, 
but  because  they  saw  the  despair  of  Europe.  Their 
faith  in  America's  future  is  as  unlimited  as  their 
faith  in  her  present  was  unshaken  by  the  world  cri- 
sis. To  that  faith  in  America's  future,  to  that  faith 
in  her  ability  to  progress,  as  she  has  progressed  in 
the  past,  benefiting  the  while  by  whatever  worth 
while  Europe  may  have  added — to  that  faith  the  re- 
turning soldiers  have  dedicated  themselves. 

And  so  when  the  Statue  of  Liberty  rises  on  a 
western  horizon,  up  goes  a  shout.  That  shout  is  for 
America  and  home  I  Then  they  turn  to  fling  back  a 
thought.    That  is  for  their  pals  who  never  will  re- 


104  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

turn.  That  is  for  democratic  Europe  to  whom  they 
say  "In  the  fight  for  justice  and  democracy  we  tri- 
umphed together  by  the  'Will  to  conquer;'  lose  not 
that  forward  vision  and  gladly  will  we  go  with  you 
to  triumph  in  peace  by  the  'will  to  agree/  " 


IX 

John  Langdon  Jones, 
"Langhurst," 
Roxborough, 

Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Discharged  from  U.S.  Army  May  12,  1919. 

It  was  Fontenelle,  I  believe,  who  said  that  he 
hated  war  because  it  spoiled  conversation.  The  ex- 
periences of  the  recent  world-struggle,  a  visit  to  the 
desolate  and  spectral  battlefields,  or  even  a  glance  at 
the  photographs  of  the  pitiable  ruins,  indicate  that 
this  long  conflict  has  spoiled  something  beside  con- 
versation. The  distorted  and  abnormal  conditions 
are  little  by  little  coming  back  to  their  normal  ante- 
bellum days,  and  each  soldier  must  find  himself  in 
one  position  or  another;  it  may  be  the  same  that  he 
once  had,  or  it  may  not ;  but  in  any  case  there  is  some 
position  for  him  to  fill,  some  place  to  occupy.  And 
when  he  arrives  at  home  he  will  be  a  different  per- 
son. The  thing  that  counts  most  at  that  moment  is 
to  know  what  he  is  to  himself,  to  his  family  and  to 
his  country. 

First,  to  himself.     He  is  older  by  many  months 
105 


106  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

probably  than  when  he  left  home,  and  unquestion- 
ably has  grown  wiser  with  the  countless  experiences 
that  have  crowded  into  his  life.  I  have  heard  it 
said  with  contempt  that  many  would  return  to 
America  with  big  ideas,  as  a  result  of  having  lived 
in  France;  but  I  believe  that  to  be  an  exceedingly 
hopeful  sign,  provided  that  the  "big  ideas"  of  each 
man  are  backed  by  noble  purposes,  and  provided  that 
he  is  true  to  himself.  He  who  has  not  gained  con- 
victions from  the  war  has  lost  one  of  its  few  good 
fruits ;  for  certainly  the  carnage  of  the  past  four  and 
a  half  years  has  left  little  that  may  be  called  good. 
There  is  something  in  the  doctrine  of  agony,  by 
which  a  man  who  has  gone  through  indescribable 
scenes,  through  harrowing  hours  and  momentous 
days,  comes  out  of  it  all  with  a  deeper  sense  of  the 
realities  of  life.  And  even  the  man  with  vision  who 
never  reaches  his  trench  may  see  beyond  into  the 
eternal  verities.  The  man  who  arrives  at  home  re- 
gretting that  his  comfortable  and  perhaps  well-pay- 
ing job  in  the  army  is  finished  is  not  true  to  himself, 
unless  he  joined  to  make  money,  in  which  case  he  is 
absolutely  true  to  a  purpose  utterly  false,  but  if  he 
be  true  to  himself  and  his  inner  convictions,  it  fol- 
lows as  the  night  the  day  he  cannot  be  false  to  any 
man. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  107 

Secondly,  to  his  family.  WTien  the  soldier  left 
his  home  he  went  away  with  a  feeling  of  grave  un- 
certainty in  his  heart  and  also  in  the  hearts  of  his 
family,  and  probably  they  who  remained  felt  more 
of  the  pain  of  parting.  It  was  not  the  mere  travel 
abroad  that  caused  the  anxiety,  but  the  thought  of 
calamity  that  might  happen  to  each  individual  man. 
We  shall  never  know  what  sleepless  hours  and  tear- 
baptized  prayers  our  wives  and  mothers  have  experi- 
enced on  our  account.  And  on  our  return  the  one 
great  gift  we  can  offer  is  to  assure  them  that  we 
have  not  broken  the  confidence  they  placed  in  us. 
So  great  is  the  love  that  our  families  bear  toward 
us,  that  to  be  less  than  they  believe  us  to  be  makes  of 
us  traitors  of  the  cheapest  sort.  The  heroic  patience 
of  our  women  demands  the  most  gallant  knighthood 
we  own. 

There  will  be  hundreds  of  families  who  will  make 
holiday  for  their  sons  and  brothers,  and  there  will 
be  honours  and  felicitations  of  well  done.  And  at 
the  same  time  there  will  be  other  families  who  can- 
not have  celebrations  because  their  loved  ones  were 
more  fittingly  honoured  at  their  coronation  time.  For 
the  sake  of  those  dead  we  must,  where  possible,  re- 
member the  broken  families  and  bring  them  cheer 
and  comfort,  poor  though  they  may  be. 


108  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

Thirdly,  to  America.  This  is  the  largest  of  the 
three  points  under  consideration,  and  because  of  its 
vastness  the  "soldier-civilian"  will  find  this  question 
difficult  to  answer.  To  us,  America  stands  for  some- 
thing positive  and  real.  If  it  is  the  wonderful  coun- 
try we  believe  it  to  be  it  does  not  need  our  approval 
and  commendation.  I  mentioned  above  the  eternal 
verities;  one  of  them  is  justice;  another,  honour;  and 
so  on.  As  we  come  out  of  this  war  with  a  few 
months'  fighting  compared  with  the  incessant  con- 
flict of  our  Allies  for  years,  we  cannot  in  justice  say 
that  we  won  the  war.  We  threw  into  the  balance  a 
weight  that  determined  the  issue,  but  that  is  a  dif- 
ferent thing,  a  totally  different  thing  from  saying 
with  bragging  assurance,  "We  won  the  war."  I  am 
reminded  of  the  American  who  acknowledged  half- 
heartedly that  the  Venus  de  Milo  was  a  great  work 
of  art,  but  added,  "You  ought  to  see  our  soldiers' 

monument  in  D ."     And  with  a  consciousness 

that  truth,  honour  and  justice  are  not  playthings 
we  come  back  to  make  the  world  better,  not  to  re- 
form it  by  smug  and  paternalistic  evangelism.  Em- 
erson reminds  us  in  one  of  his  essays  that  a  certain 
religious  person  who  was  visited  for  the  purpose  of 
effecting  a  cure  did  not  succeed  because  he  was  not 
humble,  and  Emerson  says  through  the  mouth  of 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  109 

some  one  else  that  where  there  is  no  humility  there 
can  be  no  miracle. 

The  underlying  motive  that  drove  most  of  us  to 
enlist  was  that  we  believed  we  had  an  important 
task  to  do,  a  purpose  to  serve.  That  principle,  how- 
ever, belongs  as  much  to  peace  as  to  war. 
The  only  defensible  criterion  for  choosing  this 
or  that  is  that  a  man  may  be  of  the  great- 
est use  there.  There  are  of  course  certain  con- 
ditions which  force  us  to  do  things;  but  I 
speak  of  the  free  choice  of  the  individual.  As  we 
go  back,  will  it  be  with  the  idea  that  our  America 
must  be  the  richest,  the  greatest,  the  most  power- 
ful nation  in  the  world,  or  that  we  shall  make  it  the 
best  and  the  most  mutually  understanding  nation  *? 
I  remember  that  after  having  read  Donald  Hankey's 
classic,  "A  Student  in  Arms,"  I  felt  exalted,  gripped, 
subdued.  One  of  its  charms  lies  in  its  reality,  its 
spiritual  force.  I  believe  that  it  is  difficult  to  leave 
the  book  with  the  thought  that  such  a  man  sought 
fame  and  popular  recognition.  The  whole  story  is 
full  of  the  idea  of  giving  one's  best  for  a  great  cause 
that  we  yield  to  its  power.  Our  high  duty  to  Amer- 
ica is  that  we  shall  give  our  efforts  toward  the  tri- 
umph of  justice,  that  the  proverbial  square  deal  shall 


110  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

be  a  reality,  and  that  sham  and  insincerity  shall  not 
be  recognised. 

Our  purposes  will  be  interpreted  largely  by  that 
permanent  monument  to  history,  the  doughboy.  He 
has  seen,  if  anybody  has,  those  things  that  we  have 
been  fighting;  selfish  pride,  greed,  enthroned  injus- 
tice, brutality,  vicious  oppression  and  so  along  down 
the  scale  of  a  criminal  Germany  and  I  believe  that 
we  as  conquerors — and  conquerors  because  there  is  a 
law  in  life  that  makes  right  triumph  inevitably — 
must  give  of  that  best  which  is  the  result  of  our 
deepest  experiences.  Whatever  we  may  have  seen  of 
life  abroad,  it  must  not  turn  us  from  what  we  believe 
to  be  inviolable.  If  we  are  to  make  a  new  era  of 
ideals,  we  can  have  nothing  but  virulent  contempt 
for  a  certain  Baltimore  merchant,  of  whom  I  read 
several  years  ago,  one  who  said  that  he  would  not 
employ  a  strictly  moral  girl  in  his  store  I  The 
thought  of  one  of  our  sisters  working  there  fills 
us  with  greater  horror.  We  must  grow  away  from 
the  idea  that  we  are  in  this  or  that  state  or  position 
entirely  by  a  whimsical,  fickle  fortune.  We  must 
learn,  rather,  that  we  have  the  power  to  create  and 
mould  circumstances.  We  must  go  on  in  the  high 
purposes  that  I  believe  must  prevail  toward  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  greater  brotherhood  and  a  nobler 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  Ill 

way  of  living;  and  I  believe  that  those  who  have 
lived  the  highest  will  feel  the  deepest.  As  the  blood 
shed  on  the  fields  of  northern  France  has  seemed  to 
turn  to  exquisite  poppy  blooms,  so  the  tragedy  of  the 
past  few  years  may  be  a  prologue  toward  a  new 
fellowship,  a  sacred  fraternity.  And  in  spite  of  our- 
selves, the  war,  with  its  grim  and  hideous  realities, 
will  give  us  a  deeper  knowledge  of  our  fellow-men 
and  a  higher  communion  with  God : 

"Needs  must  there  be  one  way,  our  chief 
Best  way  of  worship:  let  me  strive 
To  find  it,  and  when  found,  contrive 
My  fellows  also  take  their  share. 
This  constitutes  my  earthly  care; 
God's  is  above  it  and  distinct  I 
For  I  a  man,  with  men  am  linked, 
And  not  a  brute  with  brutes;  no  gain 
That  I  experience,  must  remain 
Unshared." 


Robert  Anwyl  Jones, 

Cpl.  Ordnance   Department,  A.E.F. 
Home  Address:  412  19th  St., 
Moline,  Illinois. 

"She  saved  others,  herself  she  cannot  save!" 

Will  such  an  indictment  ever  be  levelled  at  the 
United  States  of  America? 

Unthinkable*? 

Perhaps — and  yet  in  the  turmoil  of  a  shaken 
world  that  already  manifests  its  unmistakable  symp- 
toms in  America,  not  impossible. 

Such  a  criticism,  however,  can  never  be  hurled 
except  the  hard-learned  lessons,  the  splendid  philoso- 
phy and  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  the  men  of 
America's  Expeditionary  Forces  be  wholly  forgotten; 
Never,  if  the  American  soldier  carries  back  to  the 
New  World  and  into  his  civic  activities  the  same  in- 
domitable courage  he  demonstrated  in  France,  the 
ability  to  translate  the  victories  of  war  into  the  ac- 
complishments of  peace,  and  the  determination  to 
win  for  Right,  regardless  of  all  obstacles.     Never, 

if  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  be  carried  into  the  bat- 

112 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  113 

ties  of  peace  as  it  was  manifested  on  battlefields  of 
the  Western  Front. 

In  returning  to  the  New  World,  the  youth  of 
America  must  fully  realise  that  it  is  in  reality  a 
New  World  which  he  will  enter.  Lloyd  George 
has  crystallised  this  sentiment  when  he  adjures 
young  manhood  to  "Get  a  really  new  world.  Try 
out  new  ways,  new  methods  of  dealing  with  old 
problems.    Get  a  new  world." 

Indeed,  one  of  the  chief,  if  not  most  important 
obligations  imposed  upon  the  homeward-bound  sol- 
dier is  that  his  must  be  the  influence  that  will  turn 
many  with  a  less  wide  vision  from  a  course  that  in- 
evitably will  lead  to  a  retrogressive,  pre-war  philoso- 
phy. We  must  not  let  a  war-weary  world  lapse  into 
its  old  habits,  to  resurrect  its  sordid  aims,  to  en- 
throne the  spirit  of  selfishness  and  greed. 

It  is  the  men  of  the  A.  E.  F.  who  must  assume 
the  initiative  in  convincing  these  wilfully  blind  that 
no  longer  can  America  live  to  herself  alone;  no  long- 
er is  the  "splendid  isolation"  she  once  boasted  possi- 
ble in  a  day  when  her  influence  has  extended  into 
every  corner  of  the  known  world,  when  every  op- 
pressed and  struggling  nation  looks  to  her  for  exam- 
ple and  help. 

Because  they  have  witnessed  the  awful  conse- 


114  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

'.  ) 

quences  of  Frightfulness  it  is  the  men  of  the  Ameri- 
can Expeditionary  Forces  who  must  take  the  leader- 
ship in  preventing  either  autocratic  force  or  insen- 
sate radicalism  from  inflicting  the  curse  of  Rule  of 
Might,  Tyranny  of  Money  or  Ruthlessness  of  Mob 
Rule  on  a  free  people. 

To  say  that  every  man  in  the  A.  E.  F.  appreciates 
Home  as  a  priceless  jewel  whose  value  he  never 
dreamt  of  before  crossing  the  Atlantic,  is  to  state  a 
platitude. 

Home  to  every  true-blooded  American  is  even 
more  than  the  symbol  for  loved  ones — a  mother 
whose  eyes  have  never  ceased  to  turn  longingly, 
anxiously  toward  France;  a  father  just  a  little  more 
erect  in  the  pride  of  having  a  son  who  is  every  inch 
a  real  man;  or  a  sweetheart  whose  love  now  em- 
braces all  humanity  through  giving  her  man  to  the 
cause  of  Right. 

Home  is  all  this,  but  in  addition,  it  is  the  shibbo- 
leth of  those  who  seek  Equal  Opportunity.  And 
home  is  America — no  longer  New  York,  Kalamazoo 
or  Seattle,  merely,  but  all  the  United  States. 

And  it  is  just  this  new  vision,  this  broader  con- 
ception of  man  and  his  fellows  that  we  of  the  A.  E. 
F.  must  keep  always  uppermost,  in  our  industrial, 
social  or  political  life.     Ours  is  the  obligation  to 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  115 

demonstrate  that  America  cannot  only  purge  a  ter- 
rorised and  bleeding  Europe  of  the  monster  of  Fright 
and  vaunted  imperial  domination,  but  that  it  can, 
and  will  keep  its  own  heart  clean — to  maintain  a 
true  democracy,  to  prove  to  a  skeptical  world  that 
we  cannot  tolerate  an  industrialism  that  fails  to  be- 
lieve the  labourer  worthy  of  his  hire  or  condone  a 
political  serfdom  that  is  based  on  racial  prejudice, 
that  we  will  not  countenance  a  so-called  democracy 
that  is  "half  aristocratic  and  half  menial." 

Henry  Churchill  King,  in  writing  to  the  men  of 
the  American  Expeditionary  Forces,  says:  "You 
put  your  life  in  pledge  for  a  truer  democracy  in 
your  own  nation" — and  a  world  turns  to  the  Amer- 
ican soldier  for  the  fulfillment  of  that  pledge. 

And  that  pledge,  soberly  entered  into,  will  not  be 
forgotten. 

The  men  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces 
are  going  back — perhaps  back  to  the  old  job,  but 
even  the  old  job  will  become  .a  bigger  one  under  the 
wider  vision  and  the  truer  perspective  of  its  incum- 
bent— but  certainly  going  back  firmly  determined 
to  guarantee  a  democracy  which  will  mean  not  mere- 
ly nominal  equality,  but  the  emancipation  of  all,  and 
to  assure  equality  in  education,  in  industry,  in  the 
field  of  politics  and  in  the  pursuit  of  happiness. 


XI 

Frank  J.  Kane, 
Stretcher  Bearer, 

Ambulance  Co.  No.  I, 
2nd  Division. 

We  are  proud  of  our  Uncle  Sam  because  he  didn't 
show  us  up  before  Europe.  And  American  soldiers 
have  taught  Europe  a  few  things.  I  wonder  if 
they'll  profit  from  our  system  of  sanitation?  I  won- 
der if  they'll  learn  how  to  shave  a  man  properly"? 
An  American  is  the  only  barber  who  shaves  down 
on  the  upper  lip.  Every  time  I  got  shaved  in  France 
or  Germany  I  thought  the  end  of  my  nose  was  going 
off.  Manners  we  ain't  supposed  to  have,  but  we 
showed  cultured  Europe  a  few  of  the  fundamentals 
of  a  gentleman.  Did  you  ever  notice  Private  Buck, 
how  quick  Private  Buck  gave  his  seat  to  the  Euro- 
pean ladies "?  And  did  you  notice  how  the  European 
men  stared  at  him'?  And  the  woman  graciously 
thanked  him.  Here  in  the  home  of  Kultur  the  Herrn 
shove  the  women  around  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck. 
This  little  act  of  chivalry — Americans  giving  their 
seats  to  Frauen  and  Fraulein — is  the  talk  of  all  the 

Rhineland.    "Americans  are  rough  and  loud  and  all 

116 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  117 


that,  especially  in  their  cups,"  said  a  Frenchman 
to  me;  "at  first  we  thought  them  as  wild  as  Mangin's 
Algerians,  but  they're  gentlemen  under  the  skin." 
Europe  will  remember  us  for  things  other  than  the 
heaucoup  francs  and  viel  geld.  And  for  these, 
Europe  is  ever  ready  with  the  itching  palm. 

It's  America  first  when  we  get  back  home.  We 
know  what  we  are  now.  We  were  deferential  be- 
fore. We  used  to  feel  in  the  presence  of  old  polished 
Europe  like  a  country  heck  suddenly  lifted  by  his 
boot  straps  and  thrust  on  Fifth  Avenue.  "When  a 
man  comes  to  himself,"  says  Woodrow  Wilson.  The 
returning  soldiers  have  come  to  themselves  all  right. 
Like  the  ancient  Greek  we  are  ready  to  call  all  bar- 
barians born  outside  the  big  old  land — we've  had  the 
pentecost  of  Americanism,  the  fiery  apostles  are  re- 
turning. Get  ready  the  incense,  ye  politicians  and 
editors.    You  can't  fool  us  any  more. 

With  the  revival  of  Americanism  due  to  the  melt- 
ing pot  all  fighting  together,  the  next  generation 
will  discuss  what  their  daddies  did  in  the  war — there 
will  come  a  solid  democracy.  And  this  penetrates 
through  our  whole  national  life.  We  should  arrive 
at  a  great  period  of  literature  and  art.  The  great 
American  novel  may  appear.  We  shall  exult  in  the 
new  wine.     We  shall  witness  the  last  struggle  of 


118  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

Puritanism  and  pharisaism — those  twin  devils  who 
reappear  like  some  original  sin,  like  the  ghost  of 
Banquo  to  interrupt  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow 
of  soul.  Impatient  with  the  kill  joys  the  returning 
A.  E.  F.  will  have  none  of  them.  On  with  the  dance. 
Already  the  Puritans  are  intrenching.  We  hear 
that  many  fear  the  return  of  the  combat  divisions. 
They  say  that  we  have  been  contaminated  with  oo- 
la-la  stuff.  Well,  the  battle  of  Paris  was  certainly 
some  battle,  but  I  suppose  there's  a  battle  of  New 
York  or  Chicago  or  any  other  American  city — and 
this  will  have  to  be  fought  too.  Nature,  who  is 
prodigal  with  some  favours,  gave  the  women  of 
France  beautiful  forms  and  they  are  the  incarnation 
of  grace  and  charm.  Who  would  decry  mademoi- 
selle for  her  exquisite  taste  in  the  art  of  dress*?  The 
soul  of  France  is  art.  And  the  voices  of  French 
women!  The  seolian  harp  sounds  like  a  jazz  band 
by  contrast.  Old  Bill  of  Avon,  the  Isle  of  Albion's 
voice  for  all  time,  must  himself  have  trod  the  prim- 
rose path  of  Paree,  for  he  refers  to  "Our  sweet  Ene- 
my France,"  and  surely  he  had  Mile.  Yvonne's  voice 
in  mind  when  he  set  down  the  line,  "Her  voice  was 
soft,  low  and  gentle;  an  excellent  thing  in  women." 
"Is  there  anything  we  can  do  for  you*?"  a  returned 
soldier  was  asked  at  a  New  York  hospital.     "Yes," 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  119 

he  said,  "don't  send  me  a  nurse  with  a  high,  shrill 
voice." 

I  have  very  little  respect  for  that  virtuous  fellow 
who  never  said  or  did  anything  that  his  mother 
wouldn't  approve — till  he  went  down  with  the  first 
wave  in  the  Paris  attack.  I  doubt  his  sincerity.  The 
A.  E.  F.  will  return  to  you  less  pharisaical  if  a  bit 
more  Rabelaisian.  France  laughs  at  this  nonsense  of 
virtuous  men  getting  worldly  by  reason  of  contact 
with  her. 

We  want  to  be  free  when  we  get  back.  Puritan- 
ism still  frowns  on  the  joy  of  life.  They  have 
heaved  Dionysius  and  his  goat-footed  revellers  from 
the  Pantheon.  But  we  don't  mind  that.  Still  we 
were  fighting  for  democracy  in  Europe  when  they  put 
it  over.  But  we  don't  mind  that  either.  But  we 
have  a  fullness  of  pleasure  like  they  have  in  Europe. 
They  seem  to  eat  more  and  eat  often,  and  drink 
much  pinard.  We  drank  a  great  deal  of  the  old 
frogs'  pinard  ourselves  during  the  War.  Of  course 
we  have  the  distracting  pleasures  of  a  comer  soda 
fountain  where  people  drink  with  straws.  And 
there's  the  decorous  ice-cream  parlour.  But  the 
point  is  we  demand  some  public  house,  call  it  cafe, 
where  we  can  sit  down  and  talk,  etc.,  and  have  some 
refreshments  of  some  kind.     Coca-cola  won't  do. 


120  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

Something  about  a  first  cousin  to  Bacchus  if  you 
can't  make  it  a  brother.  We  want  a  kindred  spirit. 
Do  you  suppose  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  will  fill  the  bill?  We 
want  to  have  a  place  to  go  where  a  tract  is  not  poked 
into  our  hand  every  now  and  then.  In  Philadelphia 
Puritans  still  close  the  sweet  movie  on  Sundays.  It's 
only  a  short  time  back  since  the  joy  killers  exorcised 
the  devil  out  of  it  and  sanctioned  it  all.  And  there 
be  those,  God  help  us,  who  would  close  it  to-morrow, 
if  they  could. 

We'll  not  be  straitjacketed  when  we  get  back. 
We're  more  vocal  now  than  we  used  to  be.  We 
lived  with  the  oui's  oui's  and  the  jo's  ja's.  We  can 
tell  it  to  you  in  three  languages. 

We  think  our  country  should  achieve  the  sum- 
mum  bonum.  Poets,  philosophers,  theologians,  have 
groped  for  the  highest  good — a  land  of  the  heart's 
desire.  America  fulfills  much  and  promises  in  abund; 
ance.  All  other  countries  are  rank  with  the  corrod- 
ing poison  of  the  past.  America,  as  Will  Irwin 
says,  has  a  single  track  mind.  England  has  her  em- 
pire to  look  after.  Germany  has  no  literature  or 
art  except  the  sculptured  deification  of  the  Hohen- 
zollerns  omnipresent  in  Deutschland.  Her  litera- 
ture died  when  she  went  in  for  might  and  power. 
Germany  is  rankly  materialistic.     France  gives  the 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  121 

'-  ■ — ■ ■ « 

world  its  intellectual  worth,  and  in  art  we  bow  to 
her.  Our  country  combines  everything  worth  hav- 
ing. And  great  things  are  inchoate  in  her.  Out  of 
this  war  an  ultimate  freedom  in  everything  should 
follow.  License  will  not  follow.  It's  fatuous  to 
fear  that — if  you  know  the  American  people.  Lit- 
erature will  mount  to  excelsior.  Will  the  great 
American  novel  arrive?  Puritanism  will  put  up  the 
fight  of  its  life.  It's  their  last  chance.  Away  with 
it.     Allez  toot  sweet. 


XII 

William  C.  Knox, 

Pvt.  Hdq.  Co.,  58th  Inf.,  4th  Division. 
Home  Address:  Oneida,  New  York. 

Some  may  even  expect  the  fulfillment  of  the  pes- 
simist's prophecy  that  we  shall  become  nothing  but 
"old  soldiers."  It  will  be  decidedly  up  to  us  to  an- 
swer the  question  as  a  soldier  should.  Having 
fought  a  good  fight  we  must  still  press  forward  to- 
ward the  distant  goal,  a  life  well  spent  in  trying. 
For  I  take  it,  that  every  man-Jack-of-us,  from  Gen- 
eral Pershing  down,  has  tried  in  his  own  small  way 
to  be  a  soldier.  We  have  learned  what  it  means  to 
have  unity  of  action  and  singleness  of  purpose.  We 
have  had  to  toe  the  mark,  to  keep  in  line,  to  wait 
wearily  in  the  rain  and  snow;  we  have  taken  orders 
from  men  who,  back  home,  we  thought  were  our 
inferiors,  all  because  we  were  trying  to  be  good  sol- 
diers. Surely  we  were  not  trying  to  be  good  sol- 
diers so  that  some  day  we  would  be  called  "old  sol- 
diers." No,  just  as  America  showed  the  world  how 
quickly  she  could  become   a  living  factor  in   the 

World  War,  so  must  the  members  of  the  A.  E.  F. 

122 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  123 

show  as  individuals  how  quickly  and  completely 
each  can  become  again  a  productive  citizen. 

Back  in  those  dark  days  of  1917  when  we  were 
making  up  our  minds,  we  had  visions  of  this  day 
which  now  promises  to  be  so  near.  We  decided  to 
come  because,  some  day,  we  thought  some  one  would 
ask  us — what  was  our  part  in  the  World  War?  We 
came,  and  do  not  need  to  give  the  answer  which 
history  will  always  tell.  Back  there,  we  thought  that 
this  was  going  to  be  the  one  big  thing  in  our  young 
lives;  before  the  war,  during  the  war,  and  after  the 
war.  We  have  had  wonderful  experiences,  we  have 
suffered  untold  hardships,  we  have  seen  the  inside  of 
life  and  the  vastness  of  death,  but  "the  end  is  not  yet." 

We  know  now  that  all  this  was  for  us  only  a 
schooling  and  that  we  are  soon  to  graduate.  We  shall 
soon  be  handed  our  diploma  in  the  form  of  a  dis- 
charge and  then — what?  We  must  see  to  it  that  the 
period  during  the  war  does  not  surpass  in  purpose  or 
achievement  the  reconstruction — ^^fter  the  war. 

For  many  the  old  job  will  be  waiting;  for  many 
more  there  will  be  a  new  job,  but  in  either  case  it 
will  be  up  to  the  soldier  to  make  good.  His  dis- 
charge may  serve  as  a  passport  or  entrance  require- 
ment to  the  job  but  after  that  his  own  doings  must 
prove  that  the  job  is  not  too  big  for  him.    If  he  has 


IM  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

really  grown,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  make  the  job 
big  enough  to  fit.  Many  a  man  will  be  paid  for  his 
work  at  first,  more  than  he  is  worth,  for  the  people 
back  there  have  contracted  the  habit  of  giving  to 
the  soldier.  He  must  remember  then  that  he  is  no 
longer  a  soldier,  who  gets  almost  everything  free, 
but  a  civilian,  and  civilians  must  pay.  His  days  of 
buying  cigarettes,  chocolate  and  other  needed  arti- 
cles, at  cost,  from  a  geneuous  government  or  welfare 
organisation  will  be  over.  Then,  will  come  the  real 
test  of  the  soldier's  growth. 

I  remember  the  first  talk  that  the  Chaplain  gave 
us  on  that  Sunday  afternoon  when  we  had  been  re- 
lieved in  the  Argonne ;  how  he  brought  to  our  minds 
the  question:  why  we  had  been  spared  when  there 
were  so  many  other  men,  better  than  we  were,  who 
had  stood  the  final  test  and  whom  we  had  left,  back 
there,  on  the  hills  and  in  the  woods ^  'It  is  for  us, 
the  living,"  to  fill  the  places  left  vacant  by  them  as 
willingly  and  as  well  as  they  would  have  done. 
They  made  the  sacrifice  freely;  we  must,  as  freely, 
fill  their  places  and  our  own  to  give  back  to  the 
world  the  final  reward. 

It  was  then  that  we  learned,  because  of  the  lack 
of  them,  what  it  means  to  feel  the  touch  of  loving 
hands,  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  gentle  voice,  and  to 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  125 

see  the  clear  eyes  of  a  good  woman.  You  have  seen, 
countless  times,  the  affection  displayed  by  the  Amer- 
ican soldier,  rough  as  he  is,  toward  the  little  children 
by  the  way.  You  have  seen  him  touch  gently  the 
curly  locks  on  little  heads,  walk  hand-in-hand  with 
some  little  urchin  of  the  street,  and  give  away  half 
his  meal  when  there  was  seldom  too  much.  It  is 
more  than  half  true  that  little  children  and  dogs  are 
the  best  judges  of  character.  Tell  me,  then,  what  / 
child  in  France  or  Germany  does  not  love  the  Ameri- 
can soldier  more  than  any  other.  Then  tell  me,  how 
these  same  soldiers  can  go  home  to  the  land  where 
they  can  love  and  be  loved  and  show  any  other  spirit 
than  that  which  has  been  their  most  predominant  trait 
during  the  war.  Do  you  think  it  will  be  possible  for 
them  to  lose  their  spirit  of  generosity  and  brotherly 
kindness  as  soon  as  they  put  on  civilian  clothes'? 

We  have  seen  enough  of  things  military  to  know 
that  the  American  can  tolerate  military  rule  only 
in  an  emergency.  We  have  seen  enough  of  Bolshev- 
ism to  know  that  it  was  never  made  for  us.  We  are 
not  going  home  as  a  body  to  any  one  party  or  class, 
for  all  political  parties  as  well  as  Labour  and  Capital 
will  have  a  generous  representation  from  the  for- 
mer members  of  the  A.  E.  F.  But  the  future  vet- 
erans of  this  war  may  be  depended  upon  to  fight 


126  HOME  ~  THEN  WHAT  ? 

again  as  individuals  or  collectively  whenever  the 
rights  of  mankind  are  threatened  or  the  sacredness 
of  women's  honour  is  at  stake. 

We  have  not  learned  to  love  the  British,  but  now 
we  understand  them  better.  We  do  not  idolise  the 
French,  although  we  revere  their  spirit  of  sacrifice. 
For  all  our  allies  we  have  an  undying  respect  since 
we  know  what  they  endured  through  four  years  and 
more,  and  still  held  on.  We  have  not  even  learned 
to  hate  the  Germans,  although  we  despise  the  thing 
for  which  they  fought.  A  League  of  Nations'?  Yes, 
by  that  or  any  other  name,  a  living  thing  in  the  heart 
of  man,  born  in  the  mind  of  all  free  thinking  people 
realising  that  the  rule  of  the  world  by  one  tongue, 
one  creed,  or  one  nation  was  never  meant  to  be. 

We  are  returning  home  more  truly  American  than 
we  ever  were  before.  We  know  now  what  love 
of  country  means.  We  know  the  priceless  worth  of 
a  friend  in  need.  We  see  the  size  of  the  place  we 
have  to  fill.  Humanity  to  us  is  no  longer  an  expres- 
sion but  a  child  of  the  soul  of  man.  It  is  because 
we  are  changed  in  mind,  in  heart,  and  in  spirit ;  it  is 
because  we  see  the  relation  between  the  future  of 
the  world  and  our  part  in  the  past  war  that  I  say — 
we  are  returning  home  to  become  citizens  of  a  bigger 
America  and,  therefore,  a  better  World. 


vrv 

Proctor  P.  Lincoln, 

Pvt.    1    c.   Army  Athletics,   G'^y 
11  Ave.,  Montaigne,  Paris. 

James  Sinclair  wasn't  a  soldier.  In  fact,  if  he 
was  a  little  younger  he  would  be  classed  in  the 
mamma's  boy  category.  But  he  had  grown  beyond 
that  age  and  now  carried  a  cane,  upon  certain  mo- 
mentous occasions,  for  James  was  in  love,  and  like 
all  lovers  he  wanted  to  outshine  all  competitors  in 
the  manner  of  attire. 

Time  went  on  and  the  newspapers  carried  big 
black  headlines  one  noon  stating  in  a  heart-palpitat- 
ing way  that  the  "War  was  on."  James  bought  a 
newspaper  that  evening  at  a  subway  station  as  he 
was  on  his  way  home.     Every  one  had  newspapers. 

The  news  did  sort  of  tingle  the  blood  in  James' 
veins  but  it  was  only  a  passing  touch  of  excitement 
— for  James  contemplated  his  wasted  form  beneath 
the  fair  clothes  he  wore,  had  dubitated  before  that 
in  case  of  war  he  was  miles  away  from  it,  at  least 
from  a  physical  standpoint.  And  then  he  was  in 
love ! 

127 


128  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

The  war  was  in  Europe  for  him. 

Uncle  Sam  began  to  camouflage  his  overseas  ves- 
sels, steady  streams  of  pack-burdened  doughboys 
boarded  the  vessels  and  they  sailed  away  from  the 
Statue  of  Liberty.  It  really  caused  no  noticeable 
vacuum  in  the  social  life  of  the  town;  it  was  only 
an  occasional  lad  who  vanished  from  the  whirling 
life  about  him. 

So  James  sat  tight,  went  on  as  usual  in  that  "busi- 
ness as  usual"  attitude,  which  characterised  the 
States  at  that  time — and  made  love  according  to 
Hoyle. 

Even  June  5  Registration  Day  didn't  make  a  per- 
ceptible ripple  upon  the  nerves  of  James,  for  why 
should  any  army  need  young  men  of  his  physical  in- 
capabilities and  who  never  saw  a  gun  and  never  even 
glanced  at  the  army  and  navy  news  in  any  Sunday 
newspaper?  He  felt  he  couldn't  pass  an  examina- 
tion for  an  old  ladies'  home,  although  he  was  only 
nearing  the  twenty-eighth  milestone. 

He  saw  many  perfect  specimens  of  manhood 
about  him  and  he  knew  that  they  were  ready  for  the 
call.  But  he  was  beyond  redemption,  around  the 
comer,  he  felt. 

But  one  day,  with  the  snow  just  disappearing  off 
the  ground  and  a  spirit  of  spring  in  the  air,  a  sort 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  129 

-) 

of  patriotic  fever  coursed  through  him.  He  didn't 
sense  its  coming  and  it  caught  him  unawares.  He 
had  hardly  ever  listened  to  the  five-minute  orators 
in  the  theatres,  for  they  had  bored  him  and  a  recruit- 
ing crowd  was  always  a  spot  of  humanity  to  posi- 
tively avoid. 

That  was  early  in  March,  1918. 

But  the  warmer  air  kept  gripping  him,  along  with 
the  army  fever,  and  he  felt  that  he  might  as  well 
"try  out  the  doctors."  So  he  said  nothing  to  his 
family  or  friends,  even  that  girl  was  forgotten,  and 
he  went  before  the  medical  doctors  examining  re- 
cruits.    It  was  now  late  in  March. 

There  was  a  marked  difference  to  James  in  his 
clothes  and  without  them.  There  were  twenty-five 
pounds  of  difference  to  the  casual  beholder.  From  a 
beau  brummel  dresser  he  became,  like  magic,  a  poor 
specimen  of  manhood. 

But  the  physicians  found  no  organic  trouble  with 
James  and  despite  his  bodily  emaciation  he  was  for- 
warded to  camp — Camp  Devens — and  went  through 
that  mill  which  produced  O.  D.  soldiers  from  civil- 
ian dressed  young  men. 

•  •  •  •  • 

There  was  a  two-golden  striped  James  Sinclair  in 
France  the  other  day.     He's  probably  home  now 


ISO  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

«— — — — ■^■■■^■^■^■^— —  ^— ^^^^^— ■  11^^—11^^— ^1 

with  the  big  outflux  of  overseas  soldiers  who  pro- 
ceeded over  that  memorial  gangplank  on  their  way- 
home.  -  He  has  the  same  name  as  the  James  Sinclair 
of  early  March,  1918,  but  his  physical  appearance 
is  changed,  his  mental  attitude  has  been  revolution- 
ised, and  home,  to  him,  looks  like  a  million  dollars. 

And  that  girl  is  still  waiting  for  him. 

And  what  has  happened  to  James  in  this  country 
despoiled  by  war  and  what  has  made  him  more  of  a 
man  for  the  future  is  shown  in  a  letter  which  is  typ- 
ical of  the  thousands  of  other  Americans  who  were 
in  the  same  "boots"  as  Sinclair.  Excerpts  from  the 
letter,  which  was  received  by  his  aunt,  follow: 

Dear  Aunt: — 

To-day  is  warm  and  they  say  the  drive  is  on  at  the 
front.  We  sense  it,  too,  for  the  speed  of  our  work  is 
doubled  and  longer  hours  is  the  rule. 

This  is  the  time  to  make  one  think.  You  remem- 
ber that  I  have  always  felt  the  call  of  some  other 
city  and  home  didn't  have  that  halo  about  it.  But 
now — after  the  strain  and  tear  of  war,  sleeping  in 
mud  and  eating  in  quick  time, — that  home  looks 
better  than  a  gilded  palace  in  Heaven. 

And  some  day  I'm  coming  back  to  it,  I  hope.  It 
will  surely  be  a  haven,  a  shelter.    Personally  I  don't 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  131 

see  how  I'll  ever  be  ''at  home"  with  table  cloths  on 
the  table,  or  clean  knives  and  forks  around.  I'm 
afraid  it'll  be  like  a  dream. 

You  will  know  that  I  am  different.  The  scales 
show  my  weight  as  143,  a  gain  of  twenty-one  pounds, 
which  is  some  betterment  for  me  who  never  seemed 
to  change  in  build  for  several  years. 

And  I've  begun  to  think  that  after  all  the  dance- 
hall-like  career  out  in  the  evening's  bright  lights  is 
not  the  real,  genuine  life  but  just  a  tinselled  brand, 
— false  as  a  shadow. 

You'll  find  that  I'll  devote  more  of  my  time  to 
politics — which  previously  to  the  war  was  shame- 
fully neglected.  A  good  many  young  fellows  had 
that  "let  George  do  it"  attitude.  But  they  are 
changed,  too.  There  is  little  doubt  but  that  for  the 
next  forty-odd  years  the  A.  E.  F.  will  dictate  public 
opinion,  for  the  pick  of  America  came  across  the  At- 
lantic. 

According  to  the  drift  of  language  you'll  probably 
notice  that  a  good  percentage  of  the  young  men  who 
come  back  will  settle  down  and  marry-  the  girls  they 
left  behind.  They  all  talk  that  way  and  say  they 
have  seen  enough  of  the  world  and  are  willing  to 
*'be  at  home"  for  the  remainder  of  their  careers. 

"Home — what  then?"     WTiy,  better  citizenship! 


XIV 

James  MacDonald, 

Cpl.  Class  Camp  Infirmary, 

St.  Aignan-Noyers  France. 
Home  Address:  James  MacDonald, 
26  West  32nd  St., 

New  York  City,  N.  Y. 

He  held  the  line  at  Chateau-Thierry;  he  pushed 
on  from  St.  Mihiel  to  the  Argonne;  he  sweated  and 
toiled  with  almost  superhuman  strength.  He  did 
his  duty — gloriously. 

But  now  he  had  completed  the  last  lap  of  his 
journey  in  France;  from  the  army  on  the  Rhine,  or 
from  the  S.  O.  S.,  he  has  arrived  at  his  port.  Even 
now  he  can  hear  the  siren  of  the  good  ship  "Trans- 
port" and  to-morrow  he  ascends  the  gangplank  to 
sail  for  the  land  where  the  Goddess  holds  aloft  the 
beckoning  light.  He  will  soon  be  free,  able  to  do 
as  he  chooses,  the  master  of  his  own  destiny  and  so — 
(but  let  me  present  my  subject) — Gentlemen!  he  is 
a  first  class  product  of  the  United  States.  He  is, 
gentlemen,  the  American  Doughboy. 

For  obvious  reasons  we  can  not  discuss  the 
thoughts  and  opinions  of  each  individual  member  of 

132 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  133 

the  Army  Overseas,  but  from  the  knowledge  gained 
by  long  association  with  the  rank  and  file  we  can 
have  a  fairly  definite  idea  of  the  philosophy  of  the 
Soldier. 

The  celebration  of  the  good  news  of  his  homego- 
ing  has  passed  and  the  time  has  come,  now  that 
he  is  on  the  threshold  of  the  old  life,  to  consider  seri- 
ously the  problems  and  questions  related  to  his  fu- 
ture. Up  until  the  time  of  reaching  port  only  one 
thing  mattered — he  was  going  home!  But  alone 
with  himself  the  question  looms  larger  than  ever  be- 
fore, the  question  of  " and  then  what?" 

He  instinctively  feels  that  he  cannot  pursue  the 
old  life  exactly  as  he  left  it.  Changes  have  arisen 
and  try  as  he  may  to  dismiss  the  thought  it  presents 
itself  that  he  also  must  be  different,  not  only  to  meet 
changed  conditions  but  in  justice  to  himself. 

His  reasoning  begets  a  fixed  idea.  He  must  in 
duty  to  himself,  be  clean  and  wholesome  and  carry 
on  in  civil  life  the  finest  traditions  of  the  soldier. 
With  a  quickening  of  the  senses  he  knows  that  he  is 
superior  to  the  man  he  left  behind  on  the  day  he 
reached  his  training  camp.  At  the  time  he  was  just 
an  ordinary  civilian,  often  careless  and  even  slovenly 
in  dress,  not  given  to  thinking  of  ideals  and  higher 
things;  but  having  been  through  the  maelstrom  of 


134  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

War  he  knows  the  reasons  why  he  shouldered  a  gun. 
And  so  he  realises  that  he  went  through  Hell  for  an 
Ideal. 

He  knows  a  real  man  when  he  sees  one  and  while 
he  is  unfamiliar  with  the  meaning  of  the  word  "Psy- 
chology" he  has  become  an  expert  on  the  study  of 
human  nature.  He  knows  the  fate  of  the  coward; 
he  has  seen  the  strong  man  of  the  company  go  to 
pieces  under  gruelling  shell  fire,  has  watched  the 
weakling  win  the  D.  S.  C. 

He  has  acquired  the  habit  of  thinking.  His  re- 
ligion is  Service  and  his  motto  the  Golden  Rule. 
His  body  is  clean,  his  mind  is  clear  and  he  finds  his 
thoughts  travelling  on  the  upward  path.  A  civilian, 
he  was  content  with  his  lot  and  glad  to  live  from 
day  to  day  dependent  wholly  on  others;  a  soldier, 
he  feels  his  responsibility,  he  knows  he  is  a  better 
man  than  he  was  before  and  he  has  suddenly  become 
ambitious.  He  is  determined  to  play  the  game 
straight  and  he  is  out  to  win. 

There  comes  a  thought  of  one  who  has  been  with 
him  through  it  all.  His  memories  of  her  are  the 
sweetest  and  purest.  Her  hair  is  silvered  and  the 
lines  of  care  have  deepened  since  he,  her  boy,  sailed 
away.  But  to  him  she  is  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
good  and  true.     No  other  mother  is  just  as  good 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  135 

'^         * 

as  she.  How  often  has  her  picture,  which  he  carries 
between  the  leaves  of  his  Testament,  been  the  sub- 
ject of  his  adoring  eyes'?  To  him  it  seemed  that 
each  day  merely  served  to  intensify  his  love  for  her. 
But  now  he  was  going  back  with  the  pent-up  love 
of  many  months  clamouring  for  expression.  He  feels 
a  trifle  ashamed  that  he  was  not  all  that  he  should 
have  been  to  her  in  the  old  days,  but  that  is  over 
now.  He  appreciates  all  that  she  has  ever  done  for 
him  and  he  remembers  vividly  that  awful  time  of 
anxiety,  months  ago,  when  he  had  had  news  of  her 
sickness.  It  was  then  that  he,  who  seldom  entered 
a  church,  prayed  that  she  might  be  restored  to  health 
and  now,  on  the  eve  of  seeing  her  again  he  had  a  new 
faith  and  belief  in  his  God  and  a  new  sense  of  de- 
pendence and  gratitude  to  Him. 

He  recalled  the  names  of  his  pals  who  died  in  the 
field.  No!  they  had  not  merely  returned  to  dust. 
Their  bodies'?  yes  I  but  the  laughing,  cheerful  Bill 
and  Joe  or  their  more  serious  comrades  still  lived. 
Of  that  he  was  certain.  He  could  not  believe  that 
they  had  gone  forever;  his  simple  reasoning  would 
not  permit  the  thought.  Their  spirits  lived — he  was 
not  quite  sure  where,  he  was  no  theologian — he  was 
satisfied  in  his  belief.    That  was  enough. 

With  a  feeling  of  elation  he  thought  of  Dad.  The 


166  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

old  man  sure  would  be  proud  to  welcome  his  son 
home  and  he  was  going  to  show  him  that  his  son 
was  worthy  of  the  name.  Together  they  would 
tackle  the  problems  of  home  life  and  together  they 
would  show  the  world  that  they  could  make  a  real 
home.  And  then  his  kid  brother.  He  knew  just 
how  proud  he  was  of  his  big  brother  in  France.  The 
kid  was  young  and  it  was  plainly  his  duty  to  look 
after  him  and,  by  his  example,  have  him  grow  to  be 
a  real  man,  clean  and  strong. 

He  thought  of  the  girl.  She  had  been  so  true  to 
him  and  her  letters  had  always  been  a  source  of  joy 
and  encouragement.  As  soon  as  he  got  settled  he 
would  pull  off  that  little  job  which  was  already 
contracted  for — and  his  face  extended  into  a  grin  as 
he  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  that  ring  on  her  finger. 

Yes,  he  was  going  home — home  to  his  own  be- 
loved land.  The  time  was  very  near  now.  He 
could  almost  hear  the  chug  of  the  engines  as  the 
big  ship  started  on  her  way.  Home !  and  all  that  it 
meant  to  him.  He  hastily  wiped  away  a  tear  and 
then  immediately  looked  to  see  if  any  one  had  ob- 
served him  at  such  a  weak  outburst.  If  there  was 
anything  he  hated  it  was  cheap  and  tearful  senti- 
ment. 

His  eye  caught  the  waving  flag  high  over  the 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  13T 

barracks  square.  He  had  fought  for  it — aye  I  bled 
for  it  (and  he  thoughtfully  brushed  a  thread  from 
his  wound  stripe),  but  it  was  worth  it  all.  The  flag 
was  whipped  as  if  into  life  by  a  sudden  breeze  from 
the  harbour  and  at  that  moment  the  future  became 
clear  as  a  crystal  to  the  homeward  bound  doughboy. 
He  had  fought  for  his  flag  and  what  it  stood  for, 
with  gun  and  steel  and  nerve  and  sinew,  but  the 
greater  fight  was  ahead  of  him  now.  The  old  order 
must  go.  No  more  could  crooked  and  corrupt  poli- 
tics exist.  The  cleanliness  of  a  man's  character 
would  be  his  recommendation.  Higher  and  higher 
would  climb  the  standard  of  his  new  America.  She 
must  lead  the  world  in  righteousness  and  justice.  To 
her  had  been  given  authority  to  set  the  standards 
of  truth,  honesty  and  clean  living.  America,  his 
America  I  would  undertake  the  leadership  of  the  na- 
tions and  as  the  conviction  bore  itself  to  the  soldier 
he  suddenly  realised  that  he  was  a  part  of  the  great 
new  order  of  things.  He  had  youth,  health,  and  a 
soaring  ambition.  He  understood  now  that  he  and 
his  comrades  in  service  had  a  tremendous  opportunity 
such  as  rarely  comes  to  a  man,  and  in  his  brain  there 
was  formed  a  determination  to  perform  his  new  task 
well  and  faithfully.  He  would  give  of  his  best  and 
be  true  to  his  vision  of  a  better  America,  for  what  it 


138  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

meant  to  him,  for  the  sake  of  his  dear  ones  at  home 
and  for  the  honour  of  his  beloved  homeland. 

And  so,  as  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  pro- 
claimed the  close  of  another  day,  and  the  transport 
busied  herself  for  his  coming  on  the  morrow  there 
was  born  a  new  citizen  of  the  Better  America. 


XV 

William  H.  Martin, 

Sgt.  Administration  Co.  12,  M.T.C., 
APO  No.  717,  Tours,  France. 
Home  Address:  24  So.  Jackson  Ave., 
Chelsea,  Atlantic  City,  N.  J. 
U.S.A. 


American  Business  has  been  tapped  on  the  shoul- 
der by  an  insistent  young  man  who  has  a  valuable 
proposition  to  sell — a  proposition  the  value  of  which 
is  beyond  challenge  for  the  simple  reason  that  the 
world  has  been  reading  the  "ads"  and  has  seen  this 
particular  brand  of  goods  put  to  the  full  test  of 
ability.  Your  young  man  is  endeavouring  to  sell, 
and  will  sell — Himself. 

Take,    if   you    will,    the    young   American    who 

donned  his  khaki  uniform  and  Cookstoured  to  the 

A.  E.  F.  for  the  sole  and  simple  reason  of  removing 

some  of  the  "h,  e,  double  1"  from  Wilhelm.    It  did 

not  take  him  long  to  sell  his  particular  brand  of 

ability  to  the  C.  in  C.  or  to  the  enemy.    He  has  been 

well  advertised,  it  is  true,  but  at  the  same  time  he 

was  shipped  with  a  money-back  guarantee  that  was 

backed  by  gilt-edged   securities.     Young  America 

139 


140  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

learned  his  first  lesson  then  and  there,  he  learned 
to  serve. 

The  pathway  to  all  success  is  through  Service. 
When  a  man  has  realised  this  truth  he  has  but  to 
place  his  "Regals"  in  the  path  that  has  been  traced 
by  the  men  who  went  before  him,  and  kept  moving, 
and  sooner  or  later  he  will  limn  the  lines  of  the  clas- 
sic structure  that  hoards  the  precious  germ  of  con- 
tentment. That  is  what  we  are  all  working  to  at- 
tain. 

We  go  back  to  America  some  day.  Some  of  us 
will  go  back  to  our  old  jobs  with  the  feeling  that  we 
will  take  off  our  coats  and  lick  them  to  a  standstill. 
Others  of  us  have  grown  beyond  our  jobs  both  in 
ideals  and  in  effort.  When  a  man  has  learned  to 
bear  a  burden  that  is  a  wee  bit  heavier  than  the  one 
he  once  carried  without  noticing  the  difference  in 
their  respective  weights,  he  loses  caste  with  himself 
if  he  reverts  to  the  lighter  task.  What  was  it  that 
Hubbard  used  to  say  about  responsibilities'? 

Your  young  American  will  not  be  satisfied  with  a 
pay  envelope;  he  wants  a  pay  check.  He  has  been 
thrown  into  the  melting  pot  with  men  who  have 
painted  great  pictures  before  his  eyes — with  men 
who  have  been  content  with  even  less  than  his  por- 
tion.    The  resolution  to  grow  worthy  of  a  greater 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  141 

commercial  niche  has  been  born  within  him.  He 
sees  himself  in  the  bigger  job.  The  one  statement 
that  American  employers  will  hear  in  the  future  is 
this:  "I  am  looking  for  something  better  than  my 
old  job."  And  the  reason  is  plain.  When  a  man 
has  suffered  for  the  ideals  of  other  men,  it  is  not 
long  before  he  takes  those  very  ideals  to  his  own 
heart.  Then  he  is  fighting  not  for  those  other  men 
alone,  but  for  himself  first  of  all.  His  vision  broad- 
ens as  his  sufferings  and  privations  grow.  In  his 
very  miseries  there  is  the  irrepressible  that  exalts  him 
and  lifts  him  up  and  onward  to  his  victor}\ 

We  think  of  our  old  jobs  now — we  see  the  old 
desk,  and  remember  with  a  smile  the  pile  of  papers 
under  the  bronze  figure  that  used  to  hold  them  down. 
Day  after  day  we  went  there,  and  each  day  saw  the 
little  pile  increase  and  diminish  with  duties  added  or 
decreased.  It  was  a  good  old  job — the  work  was 
pleasant,  and  we  thought  we  could  see  the  dawn  of 
our  success  creeping  up  slowly.  We  pocketed  our 
pay — remember  how  we  used  to  call  it  ''salary"  in 
those  days,  and  say  "pretty  soft"  to  the  boys? 

But  now  with  the  bearing  of  the  greater  cross  and 
the  heavier  burden  we  have  found  that  our  feet  are 
still  as  steady  on  the  road  we  travel.  We  have 
found  how  easily  solved  are  the  problems  that  once 


142  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

vexed  us,  how  easily  surmountable  are  the  obstacles 
that  once  loomed  ominously  ahead  of  us.  It  will  be 
child's  play  to  face  them  now.  When  the  khaki  has 
been  tenderly  laid  aside  for  the  new  Stein-Bloch,  the 
hands  will  reach  out  to  break  treaty  with  the  past 
and  to  grip  with  the  future.  And  I  know  that  the 
future  is  all  that  some  of  the  boys  are  going  to  have. 

There  will  be  new  fields  of  endeavour  opened  and 
new  channels  through  which  the  quickened  blood  of 
our  men  shall  run  will  soon  be  found.  There  will 
be  more  sincerity  in  the  day's  work,  for  these  boys 
will  realise  that  in  the  past  their  very  lives  depended 
on  work  well  done.  Truly,  had  business  realised 
this  years  ago  would  there  be  as  many  changes 
necessary  in  Bradstreet,  or  in  Dun?  And,  as  a  busi- 
ness man,  would  you  not  feel  secure  if  you  knew  that 
your  newest  employee  had  been  one  of  the  boys 
"over  there"? 

This  much  I  know — that  if  America  grows  she 
must  grow  in  the  sinews  of  her  young  sons;  if  they 
are  strong  then  she  is  doubly  strong — if  they  are 
weak,  some  day  the  stones  will  slip  from  her  foun- 
dation. But  you  know  and  I  know  that  the  new 
shoulders  that  have  been  put  to  the  wheel  are  not 
the  type'  that  yield  ground.  They  may  not  have 
been  so  strong  before  the  war,  but  now — see  how 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  143 

the  muscles  spring  to  the  taut,  and  vision  if  you  can 
the  immensity  of  their  future. 

Home,  and  then  what?  There  is  only  one  an- 
swer, and  we  can  put  it  in  very  few  words — to  shake 
hands  with  Success.  And  to  do  that  we  mean  to 
keep  on  serving — to  keep  on  doing  the  very  best  we 
know,  even  though  it  may  be  the  smallest  task  we 
have — to  intrench  ourselves  firmly  before  the  citadel 
we  intend  to  capture,  and  to  dig  in  both  mentally 
and  physically  until  we  win. 

It  may  be  no  easy  task — but  oh,  the  joy  of  the 
winning!  To  feel  the  joy  of  doing  something  that 
brings  results — that,  in  itself  will  be  the  greater 
recompense.  For  your  lad  in  khaki  is  capable  of 
great  things,  and  he  will  not  wish  or  care  to  try  his 
hand  at  petty  ones.  The  old  mould  is  cracked — 
the  new  one  is  being  filled  with  its  molten  mass, 
and  your  new  design  shall  be  beautiful,  and  strong. 

And  here  is  a  little  word  of  caution  and  of  truth — 
you  need  not  try  to  subdue  the  young  America — a 
new  and  greater  impulse  has  been  bom — and  in  the 
hearts  of  the  boys  who  are  coming  back  to  you  the 
rubber  stamp  idea  has  lost  its  place.  They  want 
their  names  and  their  ideals  to  stand  for  something. 
They  sold  themselves  on  the  fields  of  France,  and 


144  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

?i 

they  are  coming  back  to  sell  their  services  again — to 
American  business. 

That  was  what  I  meant  in  the  beginning.  Some 
of  them  are  flinging  wide  the  portals  already — some 
are  still  tapping  for  interviews.  Home,  and  then 
what?  I  think  that  the  young  men  of  America  are 
looking  to  America  for  the  answer  to  that  question, 
and  when  it  is  given  they  will  give  theirs. 

As  for  me,  I've  got  two  hands—? 


XVI 

Robert  Spencer  McClure,  Jr., 

Sgt.  Ambulance  Co.  in,  A.E.F. 
Home  Address:  Quarrvville,  Lancaster    Co.,  Pennsylrania, 

U.S.A. 

"Home  and  then  what^"  would  be  a  silly  ques- 
tion if  the  men  of  the  A.  E.  F.  were  going  back  to 
that  home  with  mind  and  soul  unchanged  by  their 
experience  abroad. 

The  question  itself  imports  a  change.  If  one  can 
locate  that  change,  analyse  and  tag  it  so  that  its 
exact  nature  is  known,  then  some  fairly  accurate 
forecast  can  be  made  about  what  these  men  will 
probably  do  in  the  future. 

When  Izzie  and  Percival  and  Pat  sailed  from 
their  native  shore  they  had  more  or  less  hazy  ideas 
about  this  thing  called  Democracy.  They  were  will- 
ing to  fight  for  it  but  they  didn't  fully  realise  just 
what  it  was.  They  had  lived  w^ith  it  and  had  its 
protection  for  so  long  that  it  had  become  a  matter  of 
course  with  them. 

They  were  more  or  less  careless  citizens  with  an 
idea  that  so  long  as  they  didn't  start  any  riots  or  sell 

145 


146  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

their  vote  but  cast  it  for  the  best  man,  they  were 
doing  their  duty  to  the  country.  Furthermore,  they 
didn't  want  to  be  bothered  too  much  in  finding  out 
who  was  the  best  man.  The  baseball  score  and  the 
dance  to  be  held  in  Murphy's  Dancing  Parlours  next 
Tuesday  were  a  lot  more  interesting. 

After  landing  in  France  the  Izzies  and  Percivals 
and  Pats  were  put  to  a  thousand  and  one  different 
jobs. 

As  they  marched  weary  hours,  each  carrying  a 
galling  pack,  or  lay  in  shell  holes  with  lights  over 
head  and  machine  guns  spluttering  at  them;  as  they 
worked  until  aching  muscles  fairly  shrieked  for  rest 
while  they  put  up  two  warehouses  in  the  time  that 
only  one  went  up  before ;  while  they  were  doing  three 
thousand  and  one  jobs  that  called  for  hardship  and 
sacrifice  and  endurance  such  as  they  had  never 
dreamed  of  before,  a  change  was  taking  place. 

When  a  m^an  suffers  the  agony  of  days  and  nights 
of  continuous  work,  when  he  goes  without  food  for 
long  periods  of  time,  as  he  inevitably  must  during 
severe  fighting,  when  he  goes  and  goes  until  he  can 
sleep  between  a  pig  and  a  goat  and  enjoy  his  slum- 
ber, he  takes  more  than  a  passive  interest  in  what 
it  is  all  about. 

When  he  hears  the  groan  of  mortal  agony  and  sees 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  147 

the  death  pallor  creep  over  the  face  of  his  pal,  he 
starts  to  ask  himself  if  it  is  all  worth  while. 

The  men  of  the  A.  E.  F.  have  answered  that 
question  in  their  hearts  to  their  own  satisfaction. 
The  answer  they  gave  on  the  battlefields  should  sat- 
isfy the  world. 

These  men  have  come  to  realise  what  they 
only  thought  before.  They  realise  that  the  spirit  of 
democracy  is  the  grandest,  the  most  sublime  senti- 
ment in  the  human  breast.  They  now  know  that  it 
isn't  an  elusive  thing  to  be  spoken  of  but  that  it  is  a 
concrete  ideal  to  be  followed.  They  have  seen 
what  Autocracy  would  do  to  the  world  and  they 
are  willing  to  fight  again  and  die  if  need  be  that  their 
fellow  men  may  not  be  slaves  but  free  to  work  out 
their  spiritual  and  worldly  salvation  in  their  own 
way. 

This  is  the  change  that  has  taken  place.  What  re- 
sults may  we  logically  expect  from  it  after  Izzie, 
Percival  and  Pat  have  returned  home?  Any  indif- 
ference that  these  men  had  about  the  government  has 
gone.  They  have  no  idea  of  trying  to  make  radical 
changes.  Why  should  they,  when  the  very  founda- 
tion of  the  government  is  that  ideal  for  which  they 
have  suffered'?  But  if  that  ideal  was  worth  all 
the  pain  and  suffering  of  France,  then  it  is  worth 


148  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

all  of  their  energies  in  practising  it  at  home.  That 
ideal  is  a  thousand  times  more  sacred  now  and  will 
be  guarded  that  many  times  more  jealously. 

I  do  not  mean  that  they  are  going  back  to  be  pro- 
fessional politicians.  There  will  be  less  ppliticians 
from  the  crowd  than  if  they  had  stayed  at  home  but 
as  they  follow  the  plough  or  sell  ribbons  or  work  in 
a  mill,  they  will  have  before  them  their  country's 
problems  and  they  will  attack  them  with  a  new-bom 
interest  and  a  knowledge  and  intelligence  broadened 
by  travel  and  experience. 

The  birth  of  the  realisation  of  duty  to  country 
came  first  because  that  was  the  duty  ever-present  be- 
fore them  in  France.  That  the  realisation  of  duty 
to  family  and  self  should  follow  is  natural. 

These  men  are  blessed  or  burdened  (whichever 
way  you  choose  to  look  at  it)  with  a  sense  of  duty 
that  their  service  in  France  has  forced  upon  them 
whether  they  wanted  it  or  not.  They  cannot  escape 
it.  They  will  be  more  conscientious  workers  because 
of  it. 

Home,  and  then  what'?  This  is  what  each  of 
those  men  desires :  a  clean  life  of  honest  work.  He 
knows  that  if  his  country  really  stands  for  democ- 
racy he  will  always  have  an  opportunity  for  that 
clean  life  of  honest  work,  and  so  he  resolves  to  keep 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  149 

an  ever-watchful  eye  that  that  ideal  for  which  he 
has  suffered  be  not  tampered  with,  but  remain  the 
shining  beacon  light  toward  which  the  ship-of-State 
should  unfalteringly  pursue  her  course. 


XVII 

**MiKE,"  5th  Marines. 

"We're  going  home  I  These  are  magic  words  to 
every  member  of  the  A.  E.  F.  They  fulfill  our  fond- 
est desires,  they  represent  our  greatest  ambitions. 
Since  the  signing  of  the  Armistice,  the  thoughts  of 
this  moment  have  been  the  beginning  and  the  end- 
ing of  all  our  plans  and  actions.  To  most  of  us,  it 
means  not  merely  the  triumphant  return  of  the  vic- 
tors, but  rather,  our  long  looked-for  release  from 
military  routine;  a  welcomed  return  to  the  old  civil 
life  with  a  broadened  vision,  an  enlightened  attitude 
and  a  renewed  energ}',  a  blissful  reunion  with  fa- 
thers and  mothers,  brothers  and  sisters,  wives  and 
sweethearts:  the  happy  revival  of  old  interests  and 
habits  and  friendships;  the  gradual  obliteration  of 
the  strange  nightmare  of  the  past  year,  when  we 
lived  like  hunted  beasts  in  the  mud  and  filth  of  the 
front  and  prowled  like  thieves  in  the  dark,  when 
we  travelled  like  cattle  in  a  car  or  plodded  weary 
miles  upon  miles  through  the  night;  when  we  were 

cold  and  soaked  to  the  skin  for  days  at  a  time,  and 

150 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  151 

a  heap  of  dirty  straw  in  a  cowstable  was  a  Heaven- 
sent bed;  when  for  days  we  never  slept  and  seldom 
ate  and  one  little  canteen  of  water  was  more  pre- 
cious than  the  wealth  of  the  world;  when  a  man's 
life  was  a  matter  of  moments,  a  plaything  of  fate, 
whose  value  was  naught,  yet  most  precious  of  all. 
And  he  lost  it  or  gave  it  or  saved  it,  as  fate  willed 
or  the  occasion  demanded. 

No,  nightmarish  as  they  seem  now,  we  can  never 
forget  these  days.  And  that's  another  reason  why 
we  want  to  return.  Oh,  to  get  these  grunting  smirk- 
ing Boches  out  of  our  sight,  to  leave  the  pitiful, 
haunting  ruins  of  devastated  France  behind,  to  hear 
again  our  native  tongue  spoken  on  all  sides,  to  look 
once  more  upon  the  old  home  town,  to  greet  our 
friends,  to  meet  our  loved  ones  and  gaze  upon  the 
fairest  land  on  earth.  Our  work  is  done,  the  Hun 
is  vanquished.  Do  you  wonder  that  we  crave  a 
quick  return*? 

Even  I,  who  have  no  home,  am  most  as  bad  as  the 
rest.  No  monster  fete,  no  state's  acclaim,  no  city's 
royal  welcome  awaits  our  regiment's  return;  no  wife 
nor  mother  anxiously  counts  the  days  until  I  come, 
no  urgent  duty  calls  me  from  over  there ;  no  business 
clamours  for  my  services;  no  single  immediate  sum- 
mons comes  to  me  across  the  sea.    And  yet  my  soul 


152  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

hungers  to  return,  if  but  for  a  day.  To  gaze  upon 
the  old  familiar  scenes,  to  walk  again  the  paths  of 
my  childhood  and  to  rub  elbows  again  with  a  good 
old  American  crowd. 

What  matters,  if  my  home  be  broken  up,  my  fam- 
ily scattered  from  Michigan  to  Texas'?  Except  for 
five  strenuous  weeks  at  Quantico,  it's  four  years  since 
I've  been  in  the  good  old  U.  S.  A.  and  over  ten  years 
since  I've  been  home.  And  I'll  make  the  most  of  it. 
As  soon  as  we  land,  I  want  at  least  thirty  days  all  to 
myself.  First,  I'll  beard  the  Pater  in  his  den,  where 
he  sits  every  day,  absorbed  in  loyal  devotion  to  his 
work;  a  proud,  stern,  lonely  old  man.  And  I  shall 
stand  at  attention  and  say:  "Dad,  your  eldest  son 
has  returned  and  asks  forgiveness  for  his  sins.  The 
years  have  been  long  and  the  way  has  been  hard  and 
my  folly  has  been  as  great.  But  at  last  I  return 
with  clean  hands  and  pride  in  my  heart.  In  the 
shock  of  the  past  year  I  have  been  born  again  and  I 
crave  that  the  past  be  forgotten  and  that  we  may 
resume  again  the  relations  of  ten  years  ago."  And  I 
know  that  he'll  forgive.  For  he,  too,  has  done  his 
bit  and  been  imbued  with  the  great  spirit  of  the  war. 
And  then  we  shall  talk,  way  into  the  night,  of  many 
things;  of  my  future  and  his,  and  of  my  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  of  mother  and  the  days  that  are  gone. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  153 

And  he'll  probably  suggest  again  (but  not«insist  this 
time)  that  L  go  into  business  with  him.  For  it  is 
not  for  me.    And  we  both  know  it,  now. 

And  then  I  shall  go  to  my  eldest  sister  in  another 
state  and  she'll  get  a  week's  vacation  from  the  office. 
And  we'll  take  a  canoe  and  a  camping  kit  and  we'll 
spend  the  whole  glorious  week  on  the  old  river  and 
in  the  woods.  We'll  paddle  and  fish  and  swim  and 
dive  and  bask  in  the  sun.  And  she  will  fix  for  me 
wonderful  things  to  eat,  and  sing  the  songs  that 
mother  sang  to  us.  And  I'll  tell  her  of  my  wander- 
ings and  of  the  war  and  of  the  grave  of  one  whom 
she  knows  will  never  return.  And  we'll  bury  our  sor- 
rows and  regrets,  both  of  us,  then  and  there,  and 
return  to  our  duties,  strengthened  and  fit  for  the 
years  to  come. 

Next  comes  my  brother,  who's  married,  though 
younger  than  I;  blessed  with  a  cozy  little  home,  a 
dear  little  wife  and  two  rowdy  youngsters  who  are 
strangers  to  me.  From  his  letters,  I  know  that  his 
cup  is  overflowing  with  happiness,  though  he  foolish- 
ly laments  at  times  the  fact  that  he  is  tied  down  and 
can  not  roam  the  world  at  will.  I  shall  visit  him 
and  romp  with  his  boys  and  revel  in  the  joy  of  his 
home.  And  he  shall  be  proud  of  his  big  brother  and 
his  decorations  and  possibly  a  bit  envious,  for  he  too 


154  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

was  once  smitten  with  the  wanderlust.  But  I  shall 
enlighten  him  and  show  him  the  emptiness  of  it  all. 
Nor  shall  I  try  to  conceal  my  envy  of  his  wife  and 
boys  and  home,  that  he  may  realise  the  value  of  what 
is  his.  For  it  is  we  homeless  ones  who  really  know 
the  priceless  value  of  a  happy  home. 

From  there  I  shall  go  to  my  younger  sister,  who 
is  a  Junior  at  the  University  and  very  much  in  love 
with  life.  And  we  shall  go  to  the  theatre  and  dances 
and  picnics — she  and  I — and  I  shall  be  on  dress 
parade  and  meet  her  friends  and  form  my  poor 
opinion  of  her  school  and  her  friends.  And  perhaps, 
lecture  her  in  vain  upon  the  seriousness  of  life,  for 
she  is  young  and  talented  and  has  the  family  failing 
of  having  a  head  of  her  own.  And  probably  she'll 
know  what  is  best  at  that,  for  I'm  not  much  versed 
in  the  ways  of  women. 

My  next  call  takes  me  to  Texas,  where  my 
younger  brother,  not  yet  21,  lingers  voluntarily,  as  a 
Sergeant  in  the  Army.  To  him  I  shall  say:  "Brud, 
the  war  is  over  and  your  work  here  is  done.  For  a 
youth  of  your  age  and  ability,  the  Army  holds  no 
future.  Get  out  and  get  out  at  once.  Choose  your 
vocation  in  civil  life  and  start  now,  building  for  the 
future.  Every  moment  which  you  lose  now  is 
precious.   In  your  youth  and  inexperience,  this  care- 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  155 

free  life  appeals  to  you.  You  crave  action  and 
variety,  want  to  be  footloose  and  free  to  see  more  of 
the  world  before  you  settle  down.  You  imagine  that 
there  will  be  time  enough  for  that  later.  But  you're 
wrong,  radically  wrong.  Out  of  my  experience,  I 
tell  you  you  are  mistaken.  Truly,  only  a  fool  or  a 
child  thinks  that  twenty  years  and  twenty  dollars 
are  never  spent.  Believe  me,  when  I  tell  you  that 
this  life  which  you're  choosing,  is  empty  and  vain, 
and  palls  on  me,  just  after  it's  too  late  to  profitably 
change.  So  profit  by  my  loss  and  follow  our 
brother's  footsteps  and  not  mine." 

And  last  I  shall  go,  all  alone,  to  the  grave  of 
my  mother,  in  that  sleepy  little  old  Illinois  town. 
I'll  tell  her  my  troubles  and  confess  her  my  sins,  as 
of  old.  I'll  commune  with  her  spirit  and  seek  her 
advice.  I'll  ask  for  her  blessing  and  receive  guidance 
and  inspiration  to  keep  the  resolutions  I  have  made. 

Having  squared  the  old  scores  and  wiped  the  slate 
clean,  I'll  report  back  for  duty  with  Uncle  Sam,  in 
the  service  which  has  been  my  salvation,  and  en- 
deavour to  maintain  the  record,  and  be  worthy  the 
title,  of  United  States  Marine. 


XVIII 

p.  A.  Montgomery, 

Pvt.  5th  Co.,   14th  Grand  Division, 
APO  No.  701,  Montoir,  France. 

We  had  been  married  nearly  three  years,  and  had 
a  baby  boy  nearly  two  years  old.  We  could  not  get 
along.  She  never  had  loved  me,  nor  had  I  really 
ever  loved  her.  We  had  talked  of  a  divorce  quite 
frequently  of  late,  but  there  was  always  the  question 
of  who  should  have  the  baby.  I  wanted  him,  so  did 
she.    We  talked  of  it  calmly  and  without  any  regret. 

So  home  meant  nothing  to  me.  It  was  something 
to  keep  away  from.  Something  to  shun  as  much  as 
possible,  which  I  did.  I  knew  she  was  a  good  girl 
and  a  good  wife,  but  could  see  no  reason  why  I 
should  spend  my  whole  life  in  misery.  She  felt  the 
same  toward  me. 

Then  I  joined  the  army.     I  had  gotten  a  leave 

of  absence  from  the  company  I  was  working  for.    I 

had  left  bills  amounting  to  about  $175.00  but  I  had 

enough  wages  due  me  that  she  would  get  to  pay  it 

all,  and  have  a  little  left.  She  had  intended  renting 

part  of  the  house  furnished  to  help  out  until  she 

156 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  157 

would  get  her  allotment  from  the  Government.  I 
was  glad  to  get  away. 

I  had  been  at  Ft.  Leavenworth  over  a  month,  and 
she  wanted  to  come  up  and  stay  awhile  before  I  left. 
I  told  her  to  come.  I  had  written  her  as  regularly 
as  she  had  me.  I  had  begun  to  miss  her,  though  I 
was  not  homesick.  I  knew  I  was  doing  the  only 
thing  I  could  do  under  the  circumstances  by  joining 
the  army. 

After  she  came  I  spent  all  of  my  spare  time  with 
her.  Neither  of  us  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  each 
other;  we  would  take  the  baby  out  walking  and  go 
for  an  hour  at  a  time  without  speaking  to  each  other. 

One  evening,  a  few  days  before  I  was  to  leave 
for  France,  I  went  in  to  visit  for  a  couple,  of  hours. 
We  were  sitting  talking  low,  as  the  baby  was  lying 
asleep  on  the  bed.  For  the  first  time  I  noticed  her 
skirt,  neat  but  a  little  worn,  and  her  shoes  were  a 
little  run  over  at  the  heels.  A  lump  came  in  my 
throat  and  I  couldn't  help  it.  Glancing  upward  I 
could  see  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  All  I  could  do 
was  to  look  for  several  minutes.  I  could  not  speak. 
Finally  I  managed  to  ask  her  what  was  the  trouble. 
She  was  beside  me  in  an  instant,  and  between  sobs 
told  me  she  didn't  want  me  to  go,  and  asked  why  in 


158  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

the  world  I  wanted  to  leave  her  and  the  baby,  that 
they  needed  me. 

I  braced  up  and  told  her  that  we  had  never  been 
able  to  live  together  with  any  harmony  and  that  if 
anything  happened  I  made  all  my  insurance  to  her, 
and  she  could  live  on  the  allotment  and  the  house 
rent  she  would  get,  while  I  was  in  the  Army  and  if 
nothing  happened  to  me  I  would  provide  for  her  and 
the  baby  after  I  was  discharged.  I  had  said  all  I 
could;  she  was  sobbing  hysterically  and  could  only 
say,  "Don't,  don't  do  it."  The  baby  had  climbed 
down  from  the  bed  and  stood  in  front  of  us  before 
I  noticed  him.  He  tugged  at  his  mother's  skirt  and 
said,  Mamma!"  My  wife  could  not  answer  him; 
then  he  came  to  me  and  said  the  only  other  word  he 
knew  and  really  understood,  ''Daddy,"  and  looked 
up  at  me  with  wondering  and  questioning  eyes. 
Then  he  climbed  up  into  my  lap  and  put  his  arms 
around  both  our  necks  and  cried  with  us. 

The  next  few  days  were  full  of  happiness  for  us. 
We  hated  to  part.  I  knew  she  was  game,  and  would 
make  out  all  right,  and  she  had  confidence  in  me. 
That  was  all  I  needed,  it  was  all  I  wanted.  I  went 
to  the  train  to  see  them  off.  All  I  could  say  was 
*'Well,  good-bye"  and  turned  and  walked  away  as 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  159 

fast  as  I  could — after  the  train  started.  I  was  glad 
it  was  dark. 

We  have  been  in  France  a  year  now,  and  we  are 
going  home,  perhaps  next  month.  Home!  a  word 
that  had  almost  lost  its  meaning  to  me. 

Then  what'?  There  never  was  an  expression  that 
would  put  an  A.  E.  F.  man  to  thinking  any  quicker, 
but  who  knows  *?  Each  man  has  an  idea.  Perhaps 
he  will  say  he  is  going  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life 
in  bed.  Perhaps  he  has  a  girl  over  there  or  he  is 
going  to  "rest  up  on  somebody"  for  about  six 
months,  then  go  to  work.  There  is  no  problem  of 
any  importance  to  the  individual.  All  he  wants  is 
to  get  home.  Then  he  will  let  nature  take  its 
course.  He  knows  he  will  come  out  all  right.  It  is 
a  cinch  that  after  last  July  and  August  he  will 
remember  that  forty  to  seventy  hours'  work  on 
corned  willie  sandwiches  is  not  pleasant.  A  great 
deal  depends  on  what  branch  of  service  men  are  in. 
I  know  of  one  detachment  that  has  organised  a  small 
association.  They  expect  to  get  busy  as  soon  as  they 
get  back.  Their  purpose  seems  to  be  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  their  Congressman  and  keep  in  touch 
with  what  goes  on  in  Congress,  and  also  to  have  a 
convention  occasionally  to  compare  notes  on  what 


160  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

has  been  done,  and  to  plan  a  programme  for  the  fol- 
lowing year. 

I,  for  one,  am  not  going  to  teach  my  boy  to  step 
out  with  his  left  foot  first.  I  am  going  to  teach  him 
that  when  he  is  in  trouble  not  to  despair,  but  to  look 
around  for  a  solution  or  for  several  solutions  and 
then  choose  the  best  for  every  one  concerned.  I  do 
not  want  him  to  ever  be  a  soldier,  but  if  he  ever  is, 
I  want  him  to  know  he  is  on  the  right  side.  I  will 
teach  him  all  about  birds  and  flowers  and  animals, 
and  to  love  nature.  As  he  gets  older  I'll  teach  him 
to  vote  for  the  man  who  is  an  advocate  of  the  prin- 
ciple that  is  most  beneficial  to  people  who  need  help 
the  most,  and  to  be  interested  enough  to  see  if  he 
does  it  or  not.  That  is  only  a  few  of  the  things  I 
could  name  that  I  want  him  to  understand. 

In  the  meantime  I  will  be  doing  my  bit  as  a 
citizen.  I  would  like  to  see  our  natural  utilities  put 
to  use  for  the  benefit  of  all  and  our  natural  resources 
preserved  as  far  as  practical,  such  as  forests  and  coal 
deposits.  I  am  going  to  do  something  I've  never 
done  before,  and  that  is  to  save  some  money.  I  have 
sure  learned  that  it  is  inconvenient  to  be  *'sans 
francs";  beside  that,  you  can  never  have  any  pres- 
tige, and  without  prestige  you  can't  make  much.  My 
salary  will  be  a  little  over  $300  each  month  when 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  161 

I  get  back  and  I  have  enough  spare  time  to  make 
extra  money  at  something  else,  without  interfering 
with  my  regular  position.  We  are  going  to  visit  our 
parents  every  year  and  see  that  they  have  all  they 
need  in  their  declining  years. 

If  I  ever  have  any  one  working  for  me,  I  will  pay 
them  enough  so  their  daughters  and  wives  will  not 
be  tempted  to  throw  their  self-respect  to  the  winds 
in  order  to  have  enough  to  eat  or  decent  clothes,  or 
I  will  not  hire  them.  My  wife  can  check  on  my 
account  for  I  have  that  much  confidence  in  her  judg- 
ment.  I  know  hers  is  much  better  than  mine. 

I  feel  more  like  a  man  than  I  ever  did  before. 
Without  the  trip  to  France,  I  don't  believe  the 
change  could  ever  take  place,  and  I  am  not  going 
to  let  my  spirit  lag,  for  I've  learned  that  disappoint- 
ments are  trifling  affairs  and  soon  pass.  I  am  going 
to  forget  all  the  "bawling  outs"  I  have  gotten  from 
unthoughtful  officers,  not  that  they  went  in  one  ear 
and  out  the  other,  for  most  of  them  showed  utter 
lack  of  sense  and  of  justice,  but  I  have  had  enough 
unpleasantness.  I  will  even  forgive  the  bird  who 
stole  my  russet  shoes,  by  the  time  I  get  home.  It  is 
a  cinch  we  will  leave  the  vin  sisters  here  and  from 
all  indications  old  John  Barleycorn  won't  be  strong 
enough  to  meet  us  at  the  dock.    I  am  not  sorry,  but 


16^  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

I  did  have  a  little  hankering  for  Blanc  and  Rouge, 
but  when  I  think  of  the  bareheaded  and  half  naked 
French  "gamin"  I  saw  last  winter  standing  in  the 
snow  eating  from  our  swill  barrels  around  our 
camps,  I  can  leave  without  even  bidding  them 
good-bye. 

I  think  of  my  own  "petit  gars";  I  can  only  see 
him  as  a  toddler,  like  he  was  when  I  left,  but  he  is 
almost  a  man  now  I  guess,  for  he  talks  a  blue  streak 
at  everybody  that  asks  him  about  his  father.  He 
says  "Daddy  soldier  France  ship,  train  home"  and 
has  to  show  them  my  photo  and  his  service  pin. 

My  wife  in  her  last  letter  says  she  went  to  visit 
an  old  school-girl  friend.  In  her  words  she  said: 
"Mrs.  So  and  So  has  a  new  baby  girl.  I  wish  we 
had  a  little  girl  for  P.  A.  Jr.;  she  would  be  such 
good  company  for  him  and  he  is  getting  so  big." 


XIX 

Arthur  Prill, 

Chief  Engineers  Section, 

Headquarters,  Third  Army,  A.E.F. 
Home  Address:  544  West  145th  St., 
New  York,  N.  Y. 


Home — What  a  magic  word.  It  means  to  me,  not 
a  mere  house  with  street  or  garden,  but  my  folks, 
whose  circle  widens  as  I  think  of  them  till  the  vision 
embraces  my  town  and  My  Country.  After  getting 
there,  "At  Ease,"  "At  Rest"  and  'Tall  Out"  are 
going  to  be  my  principal  drill  formations  for  two  or 
three  weeks;  then  will  come  a  desire  for  action. 

This,  for  most  of  us  will  mean  finding  a  job.  My 
mother  is  a  wide-awake  woman  and  I  can  take  her 
advice  in  such  matters  feeling  sure  that  I'm  march- 
ing under  competent  orders.  She  has  already  written 
me  that  when  we  soldiers  return  we  must  be  careful 
about  our  attitude  because : 

Nobody  owes  us  anything. 

What  we  had  the  privilege  of  doing  abroad  we 

did  for  ourselves  and  already  receive  recompense  in 

the  continuation  of  our  country's  freedom,  to  say 

nothing  of  our  own  individual  development.  It  may 

163 


164  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


be  days,  even  weeks  before  some  of  us  find  the  work 
we  want;  in  such  case  it  may  be  well  to  analyse  one's 
object: 

Is  it  suited  to  our  ability^ 

Is  it  the  opening  to  seek  at  this  time? 

The  men  to  whom  we  apply  for  work  are  good 
judges  of  who  is  likely  to  be  a  profitable  employee 
in  their  business;  if  we  are  not  sure  we  can  deliver 
the  goods  on  this  requisition  we  had  better  attack 
on  a  new  front  suited  to  our  man-power.  The  answer 
to  the  second  question  depends  on  commercial  con- 
ditions. If  business  is  slack  in  one's  old  line,  one 
may  be  able  to  get  almost,  or  quite  as  good  a  pay- 
check from  some  other  kind  of  a  house.  Go  where 
the  action  is  hottest  if  you  want  to  gain  ground 
worth  having.  A  turn-down  here  and  there  does  not 
matter;  did  you  never  have  to  go  around  a  machine 
gun  nest  before  you  could  bomb  the  Boche  out  of 
it?  If  you  were  in  the  Engineers  and  found  one 
section  of  the  road  so  full  of  shell  holes  that  it 
would  have  taken  a  week  to  fill  them  up,  didn't  you 
build  a  new  road  around  and  between  those  holes  in 
half  a  night? 

On  making  a  reconnaissance  of  our  field  of  action 
— these  vast,  wonderful  United  States,  such  of  us 
as  are  not  held  by  family  ties  will  find  that  the  road 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  165 

sign  "Back  to  the  Land"  does  not  point  to  a  region 
of  mere  wheat,  potatoes  and  hogs.  Out  in  the  real 
West  are  mines  and  smelters,  logging  camps,  horses, 
cattle,  railway  and  water  power  construction.  Be- 
tween the  Columbia  and  the  Colorado  Rivers  are 
chances  enough  for  adventure  to  make  every  day  a 
red-blooded  event  for  an  old  soldier. 

On  a  city  job,  the  courage  which  counts  is  that  of 
self-control.  You  may  work  in  Wall  Street  ten  years 
and  never  see  a  chance  to  steal  a  subway  ticket,  but 
not  many  of  the  boys  hold  themselves  down  and 
leave  their  savings  in  the  bank  when  coppers  or 
motors  begin  to  jump  in  a  boiling  market.  Yet  it 
will  only  be  when  you  learn  to  make  your  money 
work  for  you  that  you  will  take  the  advance  line  of 
your  objective — financial  independence,  and  a  man 
is  no  more  likely  to  pick  up  sound  investment  prin- 
ciples by  glancing  at  the  stock  quotation  column 
than  he  can  learn  to  do  "Squads  Right"  by  looking 
through  a  manual  of  military  training  while  sitting  in 
a  Morris  chair. 

This  eighteen  months  in  the  Army  has  sure  put  a 
crimp  in  my  own  bank  account,  francs  nearly  fee- 
neesh,  so  for  a  year  or  two  after  I  get  back  to  work 
ril  save,  or  maybe  accumulate  Liberty  Bonds.  Then 
if  I  am  not  in  direct  touch  with  financial  affairs,  Fm 


166  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

going  to  get  one  of  the  officers  of  my  bank  to  help 
select  the  first  investments  among  public  utility  or 
railway  bonds  and  preferred  stocks.  Meanwhile  I'll 
be  studying  some  of  the  good  books  now  available 
on  financial  methods  for  beginners.  An  uncle  of 
mine  who's  been  through  the  Civil  war  said  to  me 
when  I  enlisted  "Remember  that  colonels  are  not 
bom  with  the  silver  eagles  on  their  shoulders,"  and 
few  fathers  are  now  raising  crown  princes. 

Only  for  our  character's  development  is  it  a  satis- 
factory thing  to  set  our  aim  among  the  stars.  Do 
you  remember  the  time  when  you  had  been  marching 
all  night,  even  your  can  of  corn  willie  was  gone,  you 
had  no  slicker  in  the  rain  and  your  legs  were  numb 
yet  full  of  needles^  "Five  more  kilometres"  was  the 
word  passed  down  the  line,  but  you  whistled  and 
tried  to  crack  a  joke  with  that  lanky  connection  file 
ahead  whose  ankles  were  nearly  all  in.  Well,  in  civil 
life  too  you  can  do  your  damdest  no  matter  how  you 
feel,  yourself,  to  make  things  look  a  little  brighter 
for  the  other  fellow.  Perhaps  the  greatest  humani- 
tarian problem  before  us  lies  among  the  17,500,000 
aliens  now  in  the  United  States.  That  they  will  give 
their  lives  for  the  flag  we  saw  in  the  Argonne  beside 
us.  If  you  have  the  weight  you  should  in  your  com- 
munity throw  it  to  the  political  candidate  who  stands 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  16T 

for  the  most  liberal  education  of  these  foreigners  as 
well  as  of  your  own  children.  The  world's  miseries 
are  mostly  due  to  ignorance  which  like  mustard  gas, 
makes  a  casualty  of  a  man  without  his  knowing  it 
till  too  late.  The  restlessness  that  manifests  itself  in 
anarchistic  activities  will  have  to  be  met  by  just  such 
iron  justice  as  old  soldiers  can  hand  out.  In  your 
own  trade  or  profession  join  those  movements  which 
make  for  unity  and  construction,  yet,  respect  the 
rights  of  others.  Just  around  the  corner  the  sick 
and  the  poor  can  always  be  found;  the  latter  are 
best  helped,  not  by  direct  gifts  but  by  showing  them 
how  to  adjust  their  own  battle-sights,  and  by  the 
way,  don't  let  the  good  deed  be  contingent  on 
thanks. 

I  guess  a  lot  of  us  have  also  decided  that  as  soon 
as  we've  found  a  satisfactory  location  we'll  let  some 
pretty  girl  do  us  the  biggest  favour  of  our  lives. 
Boys,  hasn't  the  American  girl  got  'em  all  beat, 
though?  She  will  be  really  worth  leading  up  the 
aisle. 

So  our  future  at  home  resolves  itself  into  a  con- 
tinuation of  service  in  a  vast  United  States  Army 
that  works  and  fights  without  uniforms.  When  our 
hair  turns  white  and  the  final  peace  is  near,  we  will 
want  an  eternal  furlough  to  visit  those  comrades 


168  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

whose  last  good-bye  was  murmured  to  us  on  the 
Marne.  We  must  be  ready  for  inspection  by  that 
Great  General  who  wears  the  stars  of  the  universe; 
then  when  the  zero  hour  comes  for  each  member  of 
the  A.  E.  F.  he'll  go  over  the  top  with  a  smile  of 
victory. 


XX 

Pvt.  i/c,  . 

Camp  Hospital  No.  33, 

APO  No.  716,  Brest,  France. 
Home  Address:  Richfield,  California. 

I  SAW  a  magazine  article  entitled,  "As  You 
Were."  I  wondered  if  we  were  going  back  home  to 
be  as  we  were.  Most  of  us  are  going  back  home, 
but  "As  You  Were*?"  No,  that  is  asking  too  much. 
The  question  is  even  being  asked,  "How  you  gonna' 
keep  'em  down  on  the  farm  after  they've  seen 
Parcel"  The  author  of  this  ditty  is  right;  seeing 
"Paree"  makes  a  difference.  But  he's  wrong;  all  men 
do  not  respond  by  leaving  the  farm  to  go  jazzin' 
aroun',  paintin'  the  town.  That  will  be  the  choice 
of  some.  Others  will  paint  their  thoughts,  or  land- 
scape their  gardens,  discourage  vulgar  entertain- 
ments, organise  to  fight  prostitution,  oppose  dirty 
literature,  prevent  dangerous  dance  halls — ^he  has 
seen  what  all  these  lead  to. 

Many  of  the  A.  E.  F.  have  never  seen  Paris.  And 
to  those  who  have,  the  impressions  are  less  forceful 
than  the  impressions  of  other  experiences  we  have 

169 


170  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

had  over  here.  To  live  with  Death  for  days  at  a 
time,  to  meet  him,  to  just  miss  him,  to  have  him 
take  your  buddie — how  can  you  tell  them  "As  You 
Were"  after  they've  lived  with  death?  To  trudge 
under  mule-packs  for  miles  and  miles,  kilometre 
upon  kilometre,  foot  after  foot,  perhaps  with  two 
packs  for  the  last  long  mile — ^how  you  gonna' — can 
a  man  use  all  his  pep  behind  a  ribbon  counter  after 
that?  To  live  in  mud,  to  sleep  with  rats,  to  endure 
with  cooties,  can  the  collegian  pursue  learning  for 
learning's  sake  as  before?  Paris,  H.  E.  shells, 
mademoiselles,  Sam  Brownes,  dead  men,  maimed 
children,  submarines,  England,  Pershing,  sausages, 
dead  men,  gas,  lice,  blood,  submarines,  maimed 
children,  the  armistice  in  France,  Christmas  in  Ger- 
many, Fourth  of  July  in  New  York  or  Homeburg — 
experiencing  any  or  all  of  these  makes  the  old  life — 
as  we  were — impossible. 

We  are  broadened  or  we  are  narrowed;  depends 
on  how  much  we  think.  Most  of  us  are  broadened. 
We  are  hardened  or  we  are  softened,  depends  on 
how  we  react  to  what  we  think.  Most  of  us  are 
hardened  to  endure,  softened  to  respond.  It  is  well 
we  are  not  the  reverse,  softened,  ready  to  quit ;  hard- 
ened, to  the  calls  of  sacrifice. 

The  war  has  ceased.   But  there  is  no  peace.   The 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  171 

'      ■  13 

world  is  nervous.  Problems  confront  us,  the  world, 
at  every  hand,  the  old  problems  of  disease,  the  new 
— no  the  old  but  mounting  problem  of  Bolshevism, 
the  hopeful  problems  of  education  and  government, 
the  growing  problem  of  population,  the  challenging 
social  problem  general. 

Fortunately  the  Yank  is  used  to  facing  problems. 
More  than  that,  he  is  used  to  overcoming  them.  I 
have  left  the  problems  of  religion  out  of  the  list, 
for  I  look  at  that  not  as  a  problem,  but  as  the  solu- 
tion. Religion  was  the  only  force  accused  of  failing 
to  prevent  the  world  catastrophe.  Religion  is  the 
only  solution  offered  with  claims  of  being  compre- 
hensive. Socialism  is  offered  as  a  panacea  by  a  few 
heated  fanatics.  Religion  is  offered  as  a  panacea  by 
thousands  of  cool,  sane  Americans — Yanks. 

Most  of  us  will  go  back  home  with  the  spirit  of 
adventure  stronger.  It  is  a  healthy  spirit.  If  we 
venture  to  apply  Christianity  (Christianity  is  the 
best  religion — and  the  most  adventurous),  if  we  "bet 
our  lives  that  there  is  a  God,"  if  we  take  Christ 
seriously — how  He  lived,  what  He  said — then  the 
American  Expeditionary  Forces  at  home  will  be 
forces  for  wholesome  uplift  of  humanity. 

How  will  it  work  out*?  Jack  will  be  kept  down 
on  the  farm  "digging  in"  in  order  to  send  little  Bud- 


172  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

die  to  college.  He  will  be  building  "huts"  where 
wholesome  play,  reading,  entertainment,  and  in- 
struction will  build  up  the  morale  of  his  children,  his 
neighbour's  children,  and  his  European  neighbour's 
children.  He  will  be  leading  in  co-operation  in  sani- 
tation, in  buying  and  selling,  in  good  roads,  in  good 
government.  He  will  bring  the  city  clinic  to  the 
country.  He  will  have  his  hands  full  combating 
world  problems  with  a  vital  religious  faith  down  on 
the  farm  after  he's  seen  Paree. 

It  may  be  harder  after  army  life  to  keep  the  city 
Yank  in  his  pent-up  office  or  monotonous  factory. 
They,  too,  will  be  kept  from  "paintin'  the  town"  by 
a  vital  religious  faith.  With  them  social  and  politi- 
cal problems  will  be  intensified.  Let  them  wear  out 
their  pep  in  downing  selfishness  and  freeing  human- 
ity. The  pep  will  not  then  be  fruitless.  Let  them 
spend  their  millions  in  foreign  missions,  and  thus 
most  surely  prevent  future  wars.  Let  them  co-oper- 
ate with  their  buddies  down  on  the  farm  in  the 
splendid  task  of  making  America  perfect. 

Home,  then  what'?  Never,  "As  you  were."  Old 
things  have  been  blasted  out  of  our  minds.  New 
zest  has  been  blasted  into  our  minds.  Something  will 
take  the  place  of  the  old  things.  In  some  manner 
the  new  zest  will  be  spent.  "When  an  unclean  spirit 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  173 

leaves  a  man,  it  roams  through  dry  places  in  search 
of  refreshment.  As  it  finds  none,  then  it  says,  1  will 
go  back  to  the  house  I  left',  and  when  it  comes  it 
finds  the  house  clean  and  in  order.  Then  it  goes  off 
to  fetch  seven  other  spirits  worse  than  itself;  they 
go  in  and  dwell  there,  and  the  last  state  of  that  man 
is  worse  than  the  first."  Let  none  of  us  who  have 
had  evil  spirits  blasted  out  by  war  experiences  be 
found  ''clean  and  in  order."  Rather,  let  there  be 
found  a  vital  religious  faith  pervading,  which  will 
take  sword  against  that  spirit  and  all  his  kind. 


XXI 

Charles  A.  Rayman, 

Cpl.  129  Bn.,  258  Co.,  M.P.C. 

Home  Address:  1002  N.  Clark  St., 
Chicago,  Illinois. 

Humph  I  Here  it's  four  months  since  the  Armis- 
tice has  been  signed  and  not  a  single  bit  of  encourage- 
ment of  going  home,  laying  on  the  floor  of  this  old 
hay  loft  looking  at  the  cobwebs  and  half  freezing  to 
death  while  nearby  every  other  guy  in  the  neighbour- 
hood is  back  in  God's  country  grabbing  off  the 
cream. 

Casual  companies,  holding  companies,  replace- 
ment companies,  training  cadres  and  a  million  other 
darn  knock  abouts.  I'm  sick  and  tired  of  this  eating 
off  wheelbarrows,  bridges,  streets  and  the  like.  I 
wonder  why  in  the  deuce  they  couldn't  have  left  me 
with  my  old  company  instead  of  busting  us  all  up. 

By  Gosh!  I  guess  I  never  will  get  home  by  the 
looks  of  things.  I  wonder  where  in  the  deuce  the 
rest  of  the  bunch  is  to-night?  Trying  to  police  some 
wood  or  a  crap  game  somewhere,  I  suppose. 

What  the  dickens  is  that  noise  out  there?    "Lo 

174 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  175 

Bill,"  Where's  the  gang*?  For  the  love  of  Mike  shut 
that  darn  door,  what  ya  been  doing,  going  over  the 
top  with  Vin  Blanc  again  ^  Gimme  that  paper  you 
got  in  your  pocket,  and  if  you  go  out  again  be  careful 
and  don't  fall  down  that  ladder  and  bust  your  fool 
neck.  I  suppose  the  M.  P.'s  will  have  to  carry  you 
all  home  before  you  finish  up  this  party,  say!  and 
try  to  police  up  a  hunk  of  candle  some  place  so  we 
can  find  our  shoes  in  the  morning. 

Don't  see  what  made  me  hit  the  hay  so  early  to- 
night. What's  this?  I  wonder  where  he  ever  got 
hold  of  this  paper.  The  official  organ  of  the  A.  E.  F. 
"Wholly  Gee  I"  this  is  rich.  Home  going  schedule, 
eh*?  Now  that's  interesting,  loading  34  men  per 
minute,  all  of  the  A.  E.  F.  will  be  home  by  August, 
now  who'd  a  thunk  it?  Well !  Well ! 

Casuals  and  wounded  carried  into  transports,  gee 
whiz,  I  guess  I'm  lucky  I  ain't  got  any  old  scrap 
iron  unloaded  in  my  carcass  at  that,  guess  some  of 
those  poor  guys  will  have  a  pretty  tough  time  of  it 
for  a  long  while. 

Well,  this  is  some  paper  I'll  say.  Guess  before 
long  they  will  be  getting  us  all  out  of  here  for  home 
"Toot  Sweet."  "Home."  Wow,  pretty  hard  to 
take — N2t, 

"Home,"  then  what?   Yes,  then  what?   I  never 


176  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

gave  that  a  thought.  Well,  what  the  dickens  should 
I  do  after  I  get  there  *?  Let's  see  now,  how  do  I 
stand  *?  This  army  stuff  ought  to  help  some,  disci- 
pline, reveille,  retreats,  formations,  etc.,  everything 
on  the  minute  is  punctuality  that's  a  pretty  good 
thing  in  business  and  appointments,  I  have  heard,  and 
a  good  asset.  Setting-up  exercises,  calisthenics  and 
care  of  the  body — that  ought  to  help  some.  Personal 
hygiene,  kitchen  police  work,  washing  pots  and  pans, 
etc.,  ought  to  qualify  me  as  a  first-class  dish  washer 
in  a  restaurant  or  hotel  some  day.  Bivouacing, 
trench  digging,  etc.,  qualifies  me  for  a  sewer  digger 
or  coal  miner,  that  training  cadre  job  furnished  some 
opportunity  to  study  men  and  human  nature  and 
may  make  a  good  railroad  or  street  foreman  out  of 
me;  then  again,  that  Military  Police  training  may 
help  me  get  a  job  with  some  civilian  police  force  and 
driving  that  truck  might  make  me  O.  K.  for  a 
chauffeur  position. 

Then  I  have  learned  a  lot  about  farming  and  the 
like  by  watching  these  Frenchmen  and  one  good 
point  learnt  is  that  of  conservation — the  one  great 
reason  the  foreigners  are  so  successful  in  business 
back  in  old  U.  S.  A. 

All  this  training  has  got  to  come  in  handy  when 
I  get  back,  and  if  I  go  into  business,  I  sure  have 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  177 

'I 

had  plenty  of  opportunity  to  study  the  ways  of  men, 
having  slept  with  them,  drilled  with  them,  eaten 
with  them,  etc. ;  that's  a  good  item  in  itself  and  will 
come  in  handy  most  any  time. 

I'll  be  one  of  the  last  ones  to  get  home  but  if  I 
buckle  down  and  get  my  shoulder  behind  the  wheel, 
I  guess  I  can  push  through,  for  in  the  army,  compe- 
tition and  promotion  were  not  as  easy  as  I  thought 
and  when  I  made  up  my  mind  to  get  there  I  was 
pretty  successful,  and  guess  I  ought  to  be  able  to  do 
the  same  in  civilian  life  also. 

The  old  following  don't  look  so  good  to  me  now 
and  if  I  can  locate  a  new  line  or  a  better  opportunity, 
I  guess  everything  will  re-adjust  itself  O.  K.  all 
right;  at  any  rate  personal  cleanliness,  hygiene,  etc., 
puts  me  all  to  the  good  and  nothing  lost  even  if  some 
of  the  knocks  have  been  tough  ones,  our  forefathers 
fought  for  America  and  I  guess  I  can  do  the  same 
without  kicking. 

Glad  they  got  all  those  wounded  guys  home  first, 
and  when  I  get  back  I  won't  be  ashamed  to  shake 
them  by  the  hand  and  say:  "Well,  buddy!  Glad  to 
see  you  and  that  everything  is  going  well." 

The  financial  situation  will  have  to  be  studied  out 
according  to  conditions  but  oh  boy!  I'm  sure  going 
to  hit  that  old  bath  tub  strong  as  soon  as  I  get  that 


178  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

discharge  and  put  on  an  ice-cream  drive  that  will 
make  my  stomach  forget  every  one  of  the  weary 
days  in  France,  then  lock  myself  in  a  room,  throw 
the  key  out  the  window,  hang  a  sign  on  the  door 
"Closed  for  ten  days,"  crawl  in  the  white  sheets  and 
forget  there  ever  was  buglers,  soldiers,  armies,  can- 
ons, guns  or  anything  else. 

Yeh  I  here  comes  the  gang  up  the  ladder.  I  better 
pull  my  head  under  the  covers  and  go  to  sleep.  If 
I  say  anything  about  home  to  those  guys,  there  will 
be  a  hob-nail  barrage  'Toot  Sweet." 


XXII 

Raymond  Brothers, 

Prvt.  i/c  American  School  Detachment, 
Clermont-Ferrand,  APO  No.  723,  A.E.F. 
Home  Address:  Claysville,  Ohio. 

Had  we  been  asked  this  question  the  day  of  the 

Armistice,  the  majority  of  us  would  have  instantly 
replied  that  our  greatest  desire  would  have  been  to 
get  out  of  knee-deep  mud,  to  locate  a  decent  place 
in  which  to  sleep,  to  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
rummaging  through  the  home-pantry  for  an  apple 
pie,  a  bit  of  custard  and  to  have  sprawled  down 
before  a  fine  fire  in  order  to  absorb  all  the  warmth 
possible  for  a  couple  of  weeks;  childish?  Rather. 

There  are  others  whose  energy  will  be  expended  in 
finding  the  old  gang,  in  experimenting  for  a  suitable 
substitute  for  beer  or  how  to  make  a  non-alcoholic 
cocktail  with  a  kick.  Still  another  class  of  individ- 
uals, more  radical  than  the  rest,  will  be  concerned 
with  emigration  laws  to  countries  where  water  is 
used  for  laundry  purposes  only. 

But  all  these  childish  and  impatient  ideas  of  re- 
turning soon  give  way  to  something  more  rational; 

179 


180  HOME  ^  THEN  WHAT  ? 

out  of  an  almost  chaotic  confusion  of  impressions, 
certain  ones  began  to  clarify. 

The  importance  of  this  home  going  and  its  at- 
tendant considerations  assume  frightful  propor- 
tions, and  we  find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  a 
number  of  questions  of  prime  importance.  They 
must  be  solved.  Am  I  returning  to  the  same  old 
job^  If  so,  sluggishly  contented  as  before?  Have  I 
learned  to  know  my  fellowmen  better  after  having 
bunked,  eaten  and  fought  side  by  side  for  so  many 
months? 

But  that  merely  brings  us  down  to  where  we 
begin  finding  questions  all  must  settle.  We  find  we 
were  very  selfish  on  questions  of  education,  on  all 
manner  of  community  and  social  problems.  Now  we 
wonder  how  we  ever  managed  to  live  satisfied  with 
such  narrow,  dogmatic  views. 

Then,  he  who  has  the  interests  of  the  community 
at  heart,  he  who  wants  to  see  a  more  wholesome  and 
efficient  system  of  education,  a  working  religion,  and 
whose  aim  is  ever  toward  an  eternal  peace,  must 
surely  intend  to  examine  and  carefully  weigh  some 
of  the  following  topics. 

There  is  no  better  way  to  judge  a  nation  than  by 
examining  its  schools,  colleges  and  educational  sys- 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  181 

tern.  The  principles  underlying  this  will  be  the  prin- 
ciples which  govern  the  nation. 

We  sent  to  Europe  during  the  past  war,  an  army 
which  speaks  eloquently  for  American  education. 
An  education  which  permits  of  initiative,  which 
brings  out  the  best  qualities  of  the  men  is  the  edu- 
cation toward  which  we  are  going  to  strive. 

So,  no  finer  task,  no  worthier  work  or  no  better 
profession  lies  before  us  than  to  take  a  leading  hand 
in  the  education  of  young  America.  There  is  an  un- 
limited field  here  for  us  men  of  the  A.  E.  F.  We 
who  have  had  an  unprecedented  opportunity  to 
travel  and  to  compare  methods  with  those  abroad, 
we  are  going  about  this  task  with  a  broader  under- 
standing of  our  particular  needs. 

If  America  is  to  hold  a  leading  place  among  the 
nations  of  the  world,  and  this  she  has  already 
proven,  she  must  be  the  best  educated.  We  are  now 
paying  more  money  for  the  education  of  our  young 
citizens  than  any  other  nation  in  the  world.  It  must 
be  our  duty  to  direct  this  expenditure  and  to  make 
every  dollar  of  that  sum  count  one  hundred  percent. 

The  energy  of  young  America  is  gigantic,  and  if 
directed  into  proper  channels  will  be  able  to  accom^ 
plish  untold  results.  Yes,  we  must  aid  in  making  an 
educated  America. 


182  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT? 

But  good  resolutions  and  ability  to  see  clearly 
what  must  be  done  will  amount  to  but  little  if  we  do 
not  put  some  dynamics  behind  it.  Work,  and  more 
work  will  be  the  keynote  to  success.  Plans  uncom- 
pleted are  useless.  Plans  with  proper  materials,  car- 
ried through  according  to  those  plans,  bring  com- 
pletion. Then  above  all  we  are  going  to  work.  By 
that  we  do  not  mean  endlessly  or  unintelligently,  but 
good  clean  honest  effort.  This  work  may  be  at  the 
desk,  in  the  shop,  at  the  plough  handles  or  in  the 
mine.   All  honest  work  is  equally  rewarded. 

If  we  are  a  working  nation  we  need  have  no  fears 
but  that  in  time  we  will  have  all  other  desirable 
things.  They  will  come  of  their  own  accord.  As  a 
nation  of  workers,  shall  we  not  lead? 

You  have  seen  your  comrades  mowed  down  up 
there  on  the  front  by  the  enemy.  They  met  death 
bravely.  You  have  seen  them  suffer  in  first-aid 
stations  and  hospitals.  You  have  seen  those  long 
lines  of  dead  awaiting  a  trench,  a  grave,  or  more 
often  a  shell  hole  for  burial.  All  the  time  you  have 
been  wondering  and  puzzling  over  how  those  men 
met  death.  It  was  wonderful,  wasn't  it?  Perhaps  a 
few  of  them  were  Sunday  school  lads.  But  those 
men  had  a  working  religion.  They  didn't  boast 
about  it,  they  often  hid  it  from  the  ordinary  ob- 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  183 

server,  but  when  it  came  to  deliver  the  goods  they 
were  ready — willing. 

Whatever  else  be  our  aim,  there  is  one  thing  above 
all  toward  which  we  as  a  nation  must  strive — peace. 
To  have  any  other  end  in  view  would  be  a  direct 
refutation  of  our  good  intentions  and  endeavours  so 
far  numerated.  No  nation  with  any  other  end  in 
view  can  long  endure. 

This  war  has  furnished  us  a  notable  example. 
Germany,  with  a  thrifty  people,  a  colossal  home 
industry  and  an  immense  foreign  commerce  had  to 
lose  because  her  foundations  were  built  on  a  mere 
superstructure  of  Christianity.  She  attempted  to 
build  strongly  by  physical  science  alone,  leaving  out 
the  essential  features  of  a  national  conscience,  of 
a  true  purpose  and  of  a  lasting  peace.  The  weak 
superstructure  crumbled  and  left  her  ruined. 

We  must  avoid  such  development.  If  we  want 
peace,  let  us  seek  it ;  rather,  let  us  make  it  our  goal. 
Let  us  be  firmly  resolved  and  assured  that  each  suc- 
ceeding generation  will  not  have  to  pass  through 
another  conflict  like  that  which  closed  on  November 
11,  1918.  Yes,  our  programme  will  be  a  peace 
programme. 

After  all,  we  may  attain  these  aims  but  still  be 
lacking.   We  need  still  another  asset  if  we  are  to  be 


184  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

real,  energetic  and  intelligent  citizens.  We  must 
join  that  great  Brotherhood  of  Man. 

That  silent  easy-going  neighbour  of  yours  whom 
you  seldom  saw  and  never  really  knew;  remember 
that  night  when  you  went  over  the  top?  You  were 
wounded  and  couldn't  get  back.  'Twas  he  who 
brought  you  aid,  got  you  to  the  first-aid  station  and 
made  you  comfortable.  No,  you  cannot  forget  it; 
nor  will  he  forget  that  grip  you  gave  him  as  he  left. 
You  knew  him  from  that  moment  on.  Have  you 
more  neighbours'?    Do  you  know  them? 

We  simply  cannot  go  back  to  pre-war  levels.  We 
must  get  a  little  above  the  dead  level  of  humanity 
and  reach  out  to  these  our  fellow  men  with  whom  we 
are  associated.  We  cannot  go  back  to  what  we  were 
before  the  war;  we  cannot  permit  any  one  with 
whom  we  come  in  contact  to  be  what  he  was  before. 
We  must  meet  the  situation  as  it  now  confronts  us. 

Then,  each  man  of  us  is  going  back  to  a  home  or 
to  form  a  home.  'Tis  a  man's  greatest  privilege  to 
have  a  home,  a  wife,  children.  'Tis  our  sacred  duty 
toward  our  fellowman,  the  nation  and  toward  our 
God. 

Here  in  the  home  is  where  we  are  going  to  begin 
the  new  era.  Here  is  the  place  to  inculcate  into  the 
mind  of  the  child  the  principles  and  teachings  we 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  185 

i 

know  to  be  true.  If  freedom,  equality,  and  fraternity 

are  to  be  the  goals  toward  which  we  are  going  to 

direct  the  nation's  efforts,  surely  no  place  is  better 

adapted  or  more  favourably  suited  for  this  beginning 

than  here — in  the  little  Republic  of  the  Home. 


XXIII 

Eugene  A.  Thompson, 

Sgt.  93rd  Co.,  A.S.C.,  A.E.F., 

Forwarding  Camp,  APO  No.  762,  Le  Mans. 

Hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  are  returning  to 
civilian  life  from  the  Armies  of  the  modem  world 
to  feel,  and  in  turn  to  make  you  feel,  "the  Pathos  of 
Distance"  which  separates  battlefields  in  France  from 
Beacon  Street,  Boston,  or  the  main  street  of  Coffey- 
ville,  Kansas.  The  readjustment  and  reconciliation 
of  the  two  points  of  view  in  a  single  experience,  not 
to  say  anything  of  the  history  of  a  nation,  is  a 
spiritual  problem  which  few  men  have  seriously  an- 
ticipated on  either  side  of  the  gulf. 

The  prospect  that  the  present  schism  between  the 
soldier  and  civilian  mind  can  be  overcome  by  any 
"ingenious  works"  which  emanate  from  the  delibera- 
tions of  well  meaning  but  unimaginative  commit- 
tees of  welcome  is  poor.  Your  instinct  for  organisa- 
tion, your  fertile  genius  for  saving  works,  may  easily 
lead  you  astray  here.  The  problem  goes  deeper  than 
that,  and  finally  resolves  itself  at  last  into  the  sterner 

task  of  a  lonely  self-discipline  of  the  inner  life.  So 

186 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  187 

it  has  always  been,  so  it  will  always  be  as  the  waiting 
civilian  prepares  himself  to  receive  the  home-coming 
soldier.  When  the  two  stand  face  to  face  again,  no 
perfunctory  mechanics  of  greeting  can  get  across  the 
rift — only  a  penetrating  insight  which  is  born  of  im- 
agination and  sympathy. 

In  the  moment  of  initial  reunion  it  is  more  than 
probable  that  the  presence  of  this  subtle  gulf  will 
not  be  felt.  The  gladness  of  the  returning  on  the 
one  side  and  the  genuineness  of  the  welcome  and 
homage  on  the  other  will,  pro  tem,  obliterate  the  rift 
which  the  War  has  set  between  the  two.  The  first 
initial  greetings  will  seem  to  be  a  reaffirmation  of  the 
old  unity  of  the  common  life.  But  sooner  or  later, 
because  the  relations  of  human  nature  to  experience 
are  reasonably  reliable,  a  difference  in  the  point  of 
view  must  make  its  appearance. 

The  first  American  draft  took  away  from  a  small 
village  in  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains  of  Virginia 
seventeen  of  her  sons.  Before  they  went  away, 
thirteen  of  them  had  never  slept  a  night  away  from 
home  in  all  their  lives.  It  is  not  within  the  bounds 
of  possibility  that  those  boys  will  come  back  the 
same  way  as  they  went  away.  The  intervening 
months  must  bring  some  change.  Life  in  the  moun- 
tain village  must  forever  afterward  be  looked  upon 


188  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

from  an  entirely  different  angle.  It  must  be  tested 
upon  the  touchstone  of  Chateau-Thierry  and  the 
Argonne  Forest,  which  is  of  sterner  stuff  than  the 
innocuous  domesticities  of  the  life  in  the  mountain 
village. 

Which  is  the  better  world,  which  is  the  real  world 
may  be  an  open  question ;  but  for  these  home  coming 
men  and  for  those  who  welcome  them,  there  must 
be  in  the  years  immediately  to  follow,  the  conscious- 
ness and  the  collision  of  two  very  different  worlds  in 
the  place  of  the  former  platitude  of  one  world. 

Every  troop  train,  therefore,  lumbering  back  to 
the  channel  ports  with  its  freight  of  khaki;  every 
westbound  transport  on  the  Atlantic  in  mid-winter, 
is  a  symbol  of  this  "Pathos  of  Distance,"  a  great 
question  mark  set  against  all  the  conventions  of 
home. 

The  men  are  returning  to  the  Allied  homelands  as 
the  incarnation  of  a  victorious  democracy.  But,  of 
themselves,  they  are  also  the  substance  of  a  new 
spiritual  democracy.  The  bluest  blood  in  the  veins 
of  the  civilian  Brahmin  is  not  half  so  blue  as  the 
blood  in  the  veins  of  the  humblest  "Wop,"  "Dago" 
or  "Nigger"  in  the  A.  E.  F.  who  has  seen  hard  serv- 
ice at  the  Front.  Moral  aristocracies  are  an  inevit- 
able by-product  of  every  time  of  intense  living.  And 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  189 

not  even  the  fresh  vindication  of  the  democratic  prin- 
ciple can  blind  our  eyes  to  the  new  bom  aristocracy 
of  men  who  are  coming  back  to  civilian  life  with  the 
chilling  certainty  with  which  they  are  thoroughly 
imbued  and  coloured,  that  by  virtue  of  their  suffering 
they  know  more  than  the  wisest  of  you  can  ever 
know,  because  they  have  been  familiar  with,  and  at 
home  in  many  distant  dreadful  worlds  of  which  you 
know  absolutely  nothing.  Something  more  than  the 
cracker  barrel  philosophy  of  the  Blue  Ridge  village 
grocery  store;  something  more  than  the  platitudes 
which  pass  across  mahogany  desks  in  First  National 
Banks,  or  overflow  orthodox  churches,  will  be  needed 
to  overcome  the  "Pathos  of  Distance,"  between  the 
two  worlds.  The  problem  of  the  readjustment  of  the 
spiritual  aristocrat  to  the  "many-too-many"  who 
make  up  his  easy  going  democratic  environment  is 
always  hard.  But  never  was  the  task  of  reconcilia- 
tion harder  than  now.  In  the  welter  of  problems 
that  are  rolling  on  the  shores  of  peace-times,  like  a 
ground  swell  after  storm,  none  bulks  bigger  and 
more  imperious  than  this. 

In  his  absence  civilians  have  told  one  another  that 
the  soldier  would  not  come  back  the  same  he  went. 
He  will  be  changed,  they  have  said.  But  how  he 
will  be  changed  they  really  do  not  know.    Every 


190  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

effort  to  forecast  the  change  is  tinged  by  their  own 
point  of  view.  They  read  into  the  expected  change 
their  particular  codes  and  creeds  which  are  still  dear 
to  them.  And  then  they  read  them  out  again  with 
the  sanctions  of  the  soldier  to  give  them  new  valid- 
ity. Are  they  Tories'?  Then  the  soldier  will  come 
back  from  the  war  cured  of  all  the  seductions  to 
radicalism  and  pledged  to  a  life  of  conservatism. 
Are  they  rebels'?  Then  the  soldier  will  have  been 
infected  by  the  virtues  of  revolt  and  will  return  a 
sworn  *'Red."  Are  they  sectarians'?  Then  the  sol- 
dier's experience  will  have  taught  him  the  truth  of 
their  dogmas  and  he  will  come  to  take  his  place  in 
their  choirs  and  chant  their  creeds.  .  .  . 

Something  of  this  sort,  then,  constitutes  the  prin- 
cipal task  for  those  who,  on  the  civilian  side  of  our 
"Pathos  of  Distance,"  are  seriously  concerned  to 
bridge  the  gulf:  some  perception  that  we  have  here 
the  old  but  always  new  collision  of  the  two  great 
types  of  mind. 

On  the  one  hand,  we  have  had  at  home  a  mind 
which,  under  the  stress  of  war  and  the  collision  of 
ideals,  has  been  freshly  obsessed  with  the  need  for 
more  and  better  systems,  business,  and  politics.  The 
enemy  has  proven  to  us  that  power  of  a  systematic 
theology  once  a  people  are  indoctrinated  with  it. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  191 

And  so,  preoccupied  with  your  new  systems,  you  go 
to  the  pier  to  meet  the  soldier,  and  greet  him,  in  the 
hope  that  for  the  sake  of  civilisation,  he  will  counter- 
sign your  intellectual  efforts  with  the  sanctions  of 
your  experience. 

Yet  what  greets  you  is  not  a  mind  like  your  own 
but  a  mind  unlike  your  own — a  mind  which  has  been 
trained  to  suspect  reflection  as  debilitating  if  not 
dangerous. 

What  is  needed,  then,  on  the  part  of  the  civilian, 
who  looks  with  eager  expectancy  to  the  men  of  the 
home-coming  armies,  is  not  any  system  of  thought, 
but  a  frame  of  mind,  a  mental  and  moral  method 
which  meets  the  soldier's  own.  By  some  solitary 
inner  discipline,  one  by  one,  you  must  be  reborn  into 
the  process  of  the  soldier's  inner  life  if  the  gulf  is 
to  be  bridged. 

In  American  homes  there  still  linger  the  memory 
and  tradition  of  staid  young  men  whom  the  Civil 
War  turned  into  wandering  "Soldiers  of  Fortune." 
They  are  remembered  or  mentioned  with  a  gesture 
of  deprecation  and  regret.  Outside  the  pale  of  hum- 
drum life  these  detached  uncles  and  second  cousins 
went  their  w^ay  like  rolling  stones.  But  it  may  be 
questioned  whether  or  not  the  fault  was  all  theirs. 
Perhaps  they  could  not  find  in  the  insipid  concerns  of 


192  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

the  "Reconstruction  Period"  after  the  Civil  War 
challenge  and  opportunity  for  their  capacity  for  risk. 

So  again  men  returning  from  France  to  a  world 
which  is  still  primarily  concerned  to  "play  the  game 
safe"  in  reHgion,  business  and  politics,  may  well 
question  the  validity  of  the  ideal  which  you  offer 
them  and  turn  "Soldiers  of  Fortune"  as  did  their 
ancestors. 

Now  then,  as  a  conclusion  to  the  whole  title,  it 
is  to  be  noted  that  the  habit  of  taking  risks  has 
generated  in  the  soldier  the  further  habit  of  selfless- 
ness. If  you  live  a  life  of  risk,  you  must  give  up 
primarily  of  thinking  of  self. 

It  is  here  that  the  soldier's  life  has  touched  most 
intimately  the  austerer  types  of  moral  idealism.  To 
think  of  self  in  action  and  to  put  self -salvation  above 
risk  for  the  cause,  is  to  dally  with  the  sin  of  treason 
for  which  military  law  knows  no  forgiveness.  That 
way  lies  the  firing  squad.  That  so  few  men  have 
yielded  to  the  self-preserving  instincts  in  the  face  of 
superhuman  temptation  is  in  itself  one  of  the  moral 
triumphs  of  the  War. 

"The  Gulf,"  then,  will  never  be  bridged  by  any 
works  of  any  obvious  mechanical  social  structure. 
In  so  far  as  it  is  really  bridged,  it  must  be  bridged 
by  that  sympathy  and  imagination  in  the  civilian 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  193 

soul  which  seeks  to  understand  and  reproduce  in  its 
own  life  the  inner  substance  and  method  of  the  sol- 
dier-discipline. The  soldier  character  has  been  ap- 
proved and  approved.  The  real  testing  of  the  de- 
velopment of  civilian  character  in  war  time  is  yet 
to  come.  It  comes  with  the  returning  soldier  who 
brings  to  you  no  final  system  on  which  to  try  your 
patiently  refurbished  creeds,  but  rather  a  point  of 
view,  an  intellectual  method. 


XXIV 

Louis  L.  Torres, 

1849-1854  Jerome  Ave., 
New  York  City,  N.  Y. 

Never  mind  the  *'And  Then,"  gentlemen,  but 
think  of  the  real  meaning  of  the  word  home  for  a 
man  in  O.  D.  uniform ;  think  of  that  magic  word  and 
of  what  would  a  man  do  to  be  there;  but  since  you 
don't  give  a  hoot  about  its  meaning  to  us,  and  the 
words  you  are  interested  to  hear  something  about  are 
''and  then,  whaf  I  will  do  my  best  to  make  an  ex- 
tract of  all  the  projects  I  have  in  mind  as  soon  as  I 
hit  Hoboken. 

I  will  go  and  see  the  demobilisation  Camp  Com- 
mander and  ask  him  if  he  can  turn  me  loose,  with  or 
without  discharge,  as  that  is  immaterial  to  me.  In 
case  I  succeed  in  this  attempt  to  be  free,  I  will  take 
the  fastest  express  that  there  is  in  the  State  of  New 
York  that  will  take  me  up  to  Manhattan.  Upon 
arrival  I  will  make  the  old  lady  "turn  out  the  guard" 
and  all  military  honours  to  be  rendered  to  me;  a  gen- 
eral inspection  will  follow,  everybody  standing  in 

"attention"  until  the  command  "rest"  is  given.  After 

194 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  195 

all  these  ceremonies  and  compliments,  which  of 
course  are  made  upon  my  own  request,  I  will  dismiss 
every  one  in  the  house,  take  off  my  uniform,  put  on 
my  ''civies,"  which  by  this  time  may  be  too  big  for 
me  as  I  have  lost  about  twenty  pounds  since  enlist- 
ment, fact  which  is  in  contradiction  to  reports  from 
the  War  Department  which  states  that  every  man  in 
the  A.  E.  F.  has  gained  twenty-five  pounds  while  in 
the  Army.  .  .  . 

I  am  a  civilian  now.  I  have  the  right  to  vote  when 
I  want  and  for  the  candidate  that  I  want  to  vote 
for.  I  will  have  the  great  satisfaction  of  taking  part 
or  voice  in  the  country  going  "dry"  or  ''wet."  I  will 
see  that  my  vote  never  goes  to  a  man  of  Military 
genius  or  military  tendencies.  Furthermore,  I  will 
see  that  my  vote  is  never  given  to  a  man  who  had 
anything  to  do  with  an  army  on  the  rear  line. 

Under  no  circumstances  will  I  give  a  penny  to 
representatives  of  religious  or  other  organisations 
who  claim  to  be  working  for  the  welfare  of  the 
boys  at  the  front  during  the  next  war.  If  I  was 
sure  they  would  (the  boys)  get  the  benefit  of  such 
contributions,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  send  them 
what  they  ask  for,  through  the  above  named  institu- 
tions, but  honest  to  God,  as  I  never  got  anything 
from  them  while  I  really  needed,  notwithstanding 


196  HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ? 

the  fact  that  my  mother  gave  a  lot  of  "dough"  to 
those  societies,  I  doubt  if  they  (the  boys)  will  really 
get  what  I  give  in  the  next  war.  I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  the  best  thing  to  do  in  the  next  war  is  to  claim 
exemption  on  the  "grounds  of  being  religious"  and 
start  working  for  one  of  those  Welfare  Institutions. 
I  will  never  take  a  walk  or  even  smile  with  girls 
who  worked  for  the  A.  E.  F.  in  Europe.  Not  be- 
cause they  are  no  good ;  no,  they  are  O.  K.  They  are 
too  good  for  me,  or  at  least,  they  were  while  they 
were  in  France.  They  could  not  promenade  with  an 
enlisted  man  in  Europe.  They  could  not  walk 
around  and  smile  to  the  soldiers  of  a  free  nation  who 
are  reputed  to  kave  won  the  war  and  made  the  world 
safe  for  Democracy;  so,  you  see,  pals,  them  girls 
were  too  good  for  us.  But  when  I  put  on  my  civies, 
conditions  are  entirely  different ;  then  I  will  think  to 
be  a  real  hero.  Then  you  will  pick  your  own  friends 
and  do  things  according  to  your  own  will  and  in 
compliance  with  your  own  free  G.  O.'s.  Oh,  that  I 
will  be  independent  I  Home  and  then  Independence. 
The  nation  is  going  "dry."  There  is  no  question 
about  the  measure  being  a  good  one  as  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  but  for  heaven's  sake,  keep  it  wet  until 
I  return,  until  I  am  demobilised.  I  want  to  get 
^'stewed"  that  day.   I  want  to  get  drunk  in  order  to 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  19T 

drown  the  joy  of  having  on  once  more  the  good  old 
reliable  civies.  If  I  don't  kill  the  joy  with  alcohol, 
the  joy  will  kill  me,  and  nobody  under  the  sun  wants 
to  get  killed  after  the  war  is  over,  or  at  least  I  have 
never  heard  of  one.  .  .  . 

Will  say  something  else  in  regard  to  my  future 
plans,  that  is  to  say,  when  I  will  be  free.  My  chil- 
dren will  have  a  refined  education  so  that  when  the 
new  war  breaks  out,  they  will  not  have  to  enlist 
right  away  as  their  father  did,  but  will  make  appli- 
cation for  a  commission  if  possible  in  the  M.  P. 
Service.  There  they  will  be  fed  accordingly  and  will 
prevent  anybody  from  stealing  their  jam.  My 
daughters  will  never  go  to  work  for  the  Army,  as 
it  is  forbidden  for  them  to  walk  around  with  sol- 
diers, and  that  is  one  thing  I  would  like  them  to  do, 
to  entertain  and  please  the  poor  boys  who  fight 
while  their  mothers  stay  at  home  suffering  the  tor- 
tures of  Hell. 

The  next  war  will  be  fought  in  France,  that's  a 
cinch,  as  everybody  who  starts  an  argument  in  any 
corner  of  the  world  comes  to  settle  it  here.  Well, 
gents,  if  our  Armies  have  to  come  here  every  time 
something  starts,  I  believe  the  best  thing  for  me  to 
do  is  to  begin  making  experiments  of  how  to  pre- 
serve ham  and  eggs  to  send  to  my  boys  overseas^ 


198  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

They  will,  I  am  sure,  appreciate  it.  The  love  for 
my  mother  and  sweetheart  has  grown  to  such  an 
extent  for  the  last  two  years  that  when  I  return  I 
will  tire  them  with  all  the  attentions  of  the  man 
who  has  been  deprived  of  a  family  for  a  long  time. 
Only  God  knows  what  it  is  to  be  away  from  home 
under  orders.  .  .  . 

To  get  a  job  I  will  depend  on  my  own  knowledge 
of  the  business,  and  not  on  the  reputation  of  being 
a  war  veteran,  as  many  already  think.  My  motto 
will  be  ''no  war  talk."  What  is  the  use,  anyway? 
There  will  be  many  heroes  up  home.  You  will  find 
them  usually  in  the  bar  rooms  annoying  bar-tenders, 
that  is  if  the  country  has  not  gone  dry.  You  will 
find  fellows  who  got  wounded  in  every  bone  of 
their  bodies  and  who,  notwithstanding  that,  were 
present  at  all  the  great  battles  of  Freedom  of  this 
great  War.  Their  Service  Records  at  the  War  De- 
partment will  not  show  most  of  the  exploits  they 
talk  about,  but,  what  is  the  use*?  They  claim  they 
are  heroes,  and  they  must  be  when  they  admit  it. 

The  heroes  will  be  so  numerous  that  I  think  it  will 
be  a  good  tactic  to  avoid  being  taken  as  one.  The 
best  thing  to  do,  to  my  opinion,  is  to  keep  quiet 
and  try  to  forget  the  guys  who  got  away  with  mur- 
der as  they  say  in  the  Army,  while  their  comrades 


HOME  —  THEN  WHAT  ?  199 

or  countrymen  were  giving  their  young  sweet  lives 
so  that  others  might  live.  By  this  I  mean  the  Bol- 
sheviks, I.  W.  W.,  Pacifists,  Anarchists,  Slackers, 
etc.,  and  many  others  whom  the  "doughboy"  knows 
but  can  say  nothing  for  the  time  being. 


XXV     ' 

Ralph  Underwood, 

Pvt.   i/c  Co.  D,  55th  Engineers, 

A.E.F.,  France,  APO  No.  713. 

Home  Address:  1628  4th  St.,  S.E., 

Minneapolis,  Minn. 

A  CHANGED  man  faces  a  changed  country  when- 
ever a  soldier  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Force 
steps  from  the  gangplank  to  the  land  which  he  left 
ages  ago,  as  history  runs.  The  two- fold  nature  of 
the  change  constitutes  the  given  condition;  to  fore- 
cast the  result  is  the  problem.  Obviously,  any  solu- 
tion which  does  not  take  into  account  the  mutual 
character  of  the  reaction  will  fail  in  this  respect  of 
completeness  and  truth.  The  men  of  the  A.  E.  F. 
know  of  the  change  in  themselves  from  experience, 
and  in  America  from  hearsay  only;  so  that  their 
ideas  as  to  their  future  actions  must  necessarily  be 
suggestive  rather  than  authoritative. 

This  much  they  know :  their  first  duty  when  they 
get  back  is  to  themselves.  In  the  main,  the  biggest 
tangible  sacrifice  that  they  have  made  is  the  eco- 
nomic one ;  and  until  they  can  get  partial  restitution 

for  this  in  the   form  of  employment  which  will 

200 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  201 

relieve  the  most  temporary  needs  of  their  families, 
where  such  exist,  it  is  useless  to  look  to  them  for 
constructive  and  disinterested  aid  to  the  govern- 
ment in  the  new  and  critical  era  of  world  politics. 
This  fact  emphasises  the  need  for  the  supplying  of 
returned  soldiers  with  jobs  of  some  kind,  even  if 
only  such  artificial  ones  as  might  be  furnished  by 
temporary  construction  projects  undertaken  by  the 
government.  Of  course,  such  measures  would  not 
solve  the  problem  of  re-employment ;  but  they  would 
put  the  demobilised  soldier  upon  a  more  equal  foot- 
ing with  the  worker  who  has  stayed  at  home  and 
who,  by  very  reason  of  the  high  wages  which  have 
raised  the  prices  that  the  soldier  must  pay,  has  ac- 
cumulated a  reserve  enabling  him  to  tide  over  a 
period  of  industrial  slackness  and  to  choose  his  per- 
manent work  with  some  freedom  from  the  goad  of 
immediate  necessity.  Few  soldiers  have  saved  such  a 
reserve  from  their  allotment-riddled  pay,  and  war- 
time prices  have  often  more  than  swallowed  up  their 
allotments.  This  was  to  be  expected,  and  they  do 
not  whine  about  it ;  all  they  want  is  a  fighting  chance 
to  stand  or  fall  on  their  own  merits  when  awakened 
industry  finds  its  stride.  This  much  they  demand  as 
a  right,  by  the  recognition  of  which  they  will  largely 
judge  the  new  America  that  they  find.    More  than 


^02  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

!  I 

this  would  be  charity,  which  above  all  else  they 
dread. 

America,  then,  has  a  duty  to  the  returning  soldier, 
whose  fulfillment  may  require  radical  legislation  be- 
fore the  end  of  1919.  In  return,  there  is  much  that 
the  one-time  soldier  may  and  should  do  for  his 
country.  His  position  will  enable  him  to  wield,  in 
the  aggregate,  a  powerful  influence  on  public  senti- 
ment— and  herein  lies  both  a  promise  and  a  menace. 
In  so  far  as  his  opinions  are  reasoned,  careful,  and 
based  upon  impartial  observation,  they  will  be  an 
asset  to  the  nation;  in  so  far  as  they  are  emotional, 
impulsive,  and  coloured  by  purely  personal  griev- 
ances, they  will  be  dangerous.  It  is  natural  for  the 
man  who  has  borne  his  share  in  the  fray  to  feel  that 
his  personal  experience  entitles,  him  to  speak  with 
authority;  but  the  very  weight  which  his  words  will 
carry  in  his  own  immediate  circle  entails  upon  him 
the  obligation  to  analyse  his  statements,  and  to 
guard  against  sweeping  generalisations  for  which  he 
has  insufficient  grounds. 

Such  generalisations,  when  they  appear,  will  be 
found  usually  to  be  "against"  something;  because 
the  mood  of  resentment  brought  about  by  personal 
grievances  is  not  likely  to  confine  its  charges  to  spe- 
cific causes.    The  man  who  has  been  "over  there" 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  203 

may  have  seen  flagrant  examples  of  inefficiency  and 
waste  in  government  methods ;  but  this  does  not  enti- 
tle him  to  say  that  America's  war  work  was  poorly 
handled  as  a  whole,  and  that  thousands  of  lives  were 
intentionally  sacrificed.  He  may  have  been  mis- 
treated by  his  particular  military  superiors ;  but  such 
an  experience  does  not  justify  an  attack  upon  the 
whole  officer  class.  He  may  have  seen  real  merit  and 
service  go  unrewarded  while  drunkenness  and  in- 
competency were  dragged  into  higher  places;  but  he 
does  not  know  that  nothing  but  ''lodge  membership 
and  hand-shaking"  entered  into  army  promotions. 
He  may  have  been  overcharged  by  a  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
secretary;  but  he  has  no  right  to  condemn  on  that 
account  the  work  of  the  whole  organisation  in 
France.  He  may  have  been  cheated  by  several 
Frenchmen;  but  that  does  not  qualify  him  to  pass 
judgment  upon  France's  motives  in  calling  for  an 
amendment  to  the  League  of  Peace.  His  range  of 
experience  has  after  all  been  narrowed  both  by 
natural  human  limitations  and  by  the  restriction  and 
censorship  of  military  life.  When  there  is  a  worthy 
point  to  be  gained  by  an  attack  upon  some  person 
or  practice  deserving  of  it  (and  there  will  be  many 
such),  he  should  not  hesitate  to  criticise,  but  so  far 
as  he  is  wise  he  will  avoid  the  rather  common  tend- 


«04  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

ency  to  indulge  in  bitter,  unreasoning  complaints 
against  conditions  for  which  he  could  not  have 
named  a  remedy. 

Fortunately,  the  evils  of  such  blanket  charges, 
bom  as  they  are  of  undirected  resentment,  will  prob- 
ably be  far  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  pos- 
itive, useful  facts  and  ideas  which  have  in  most  cases 
been  impressed  upon  the  soldiers  by  their  experience 
in  Europe.  The  average  olive-drab-clad  visitor  from 
the  States  had  had  no  conception  of  the  immense 
difference  between  his  own  people  and  the  civilised 
peoples  of  Europe.  He  had  been  prepared  for  a 
change,  but  for  nothing  like  the  complete  new  world 
into  which  he  suddenly  found  himself  transplanted. 
He  found  peasants  farming  as  their  grandfathers 
had  farmed,  and  apparently  not  looking  for  a  better 
way  of  doing  it;  he  found  the  idea  of  sanitation 
practically  unknown;  and  last,  but  not  least  he 
found  the  sum  total  of  those  elements  which  are 
forced  to  work  under  cover  in  a  respectable  Puritan 
community  flaunted  openly  in  his  face.  The  result 
was  that  his  esteem  for  America  mounted  skyward 
with  a  tremendous  leap,  while  from  his  first  impres- 
sions, his  regard  for  Europeans  fell  correspondingly 
toward  the  zero  point.  Longer  acquaintance  tended 
almost  always  to  modify  this  judgment  in  favour  of 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  205 

Europeans;  but  it  could  scarcely  be  expected  that 
the  average  unphilosophical  American  soldier  could 
in  so  short  a  time  as  a  year  learn  to  understand  and 
appreciate  all  or  the  best  features  of  a  civilisation 
so  utterly  like  his  own  as  that,  say,  of  the  French. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  American  soldier's  final 
judgment  of  any  of  the  Latin  nations  he  may  have 
visited,  even  as  mellowed  and  modified  by  later  dis- 
coveries or  unsuspected  virtues,  will  probably  con- 
tinue to  suffer  in  fairness  because  of  imperfect  under- 
standing. However,  time  and  the  general  trend  of 
interpretative  literature  will  make  amends  for  this 
injustice,  and  in  the  meantime  Europe's  loss  is  Amer- 
ica's gain.  His  increased  pride  in  his  own  country  is 
going  to  make  the  returning  soldier  more  solicitous 
of  its  welfare.  While  he  has  grown  impatient  of  cer- 
tain army  methods,  his  overseas  experience  has 
taught  him  the  value  of  the  fundamental  form  of 
government  back  of  the  objectionable  details,  so  that 
his  criticism  will  not  on  the  whole  be  destructive  of 
more  than  non-essentials.  So  far  from  creating  a 
spirit  of  Bolshevism,  A.  E.  F.  experience  in  general 
will  tend  to  a  stauncher  and  more  enlightened  Amer- 
icanism. 

Nor   will    the   Americanism   thus  intensified   be 
tinged  with  a  belligerent  and  narrowly  nationalistic 


206  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


spirit.  Militarism — the  doctrine  that  a  certain 
amount  of  war  is  a  good  thing  in  itself — will  not 
find  an  echo  in  the  heart  of  the  average  man  who 
has  seen  service.  He  knows  war  for  what  it  is,  and 
no  amount  of  shouting  and  of  "spread-eagling"  can 
make  him  believe  it  glorious.  He  knows  its  attend- 
ant privations  and  far-reaching  misery,  its  hatred- 
breeding,  its  abnormal  temptations  and  consequent 
wide-spread  lowering  of  moral  standards,  and  its 
excessive  waste  of  life  and  wealth  for  vanquished 
and  victors  alike.  He  is  impressed,  if  he  be  of  a 
thoughtful  type,  by  its  illogical  cleavage  of  society 
on  moral  issues  without  a  corresponding  sifting  of 
individuals  on  the  basis  of  personal  merit  (for  not  all 
his  nominal  ''friends"  are  fit  personally  to  associate 
with  a  few  official  "enemies,"  in  spite  of  the  far 
greater  justice  of  the  former's  causes).  Knowing  all 
this,  he  will  naturally  welcome  any  device  which  will 
tend  to  make  wars  less  frequent.  More  than  this,  he 
will  take  an  intense  personal  interest  in  those  affairs 
of  his  country  which  in  any  way  involve  the  possibil- 
ity of  war.  His  interest  in  the  nation's  internal  af- 
fairs will  be  as  keen  if  not  keener  than  ever;  but  it 
will  be  profoundly  modified  by  his  awakened  sense  of 
the  international  significance  of  these  affairs.  He  has 
been  out  in  the  world  and  has  seen  its  jealousies  and 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  207 

friction  at  first  hand,  and  he  realises  that  the  time 
has  come  when  his  country  must  take  them  always 
into  account.  In  other  words,  he  will  be  not  less  a 
citizen  of  the  United  States,  but  much  more  of  a 
citizen  of  the  world. 

The  problem  thus  resolves  itself  into  a  question, 
first,  of  the  resourcefulness  and  generosity  of 
changed  America,  in  providing  for  her  returning 
sons,  and  secondly,  of  the  good  sense  and  judgment 
of  those  changed  sons  in  the  use  of  their  acquired 
knowledge  and  influence.  Both  factors  in  the  reac- 
tion will  fall  short  of  perfection;  but  no  one  who 
believes  in  democracy  can  doubt  that  the  result  will 
be  beneficial,  on  the  whole,  both  to  the  nation  and  to 
the  men  who  battled  so  unselfishly  for  its  ideals.  The 
path  of  duty  for  both  is  clear;  and  the  sound  core 
of  the  A.  E.  F.  opinion  may  be  relied  upon,  for  its 
own  part,  not  to  endanger  the  "great  experiment 
in  democracy"  to  which  America  is  pledged. 


XXVI 

Monte  B.  Wellman, 

Cpl.  Hdq.  Co.,  76th  F.A., 

APO  740,  Kottenheim,  Germany. 
Home  Address:  Catlettsburg,  Kentucky. 

"When  I  go  home  I  intend  to "     So  begins 

the  soldier  when  he  talks  of  the  day  when  he  will 
set  foot  once  more  upon  the  soil  of  the  United  States 
and  receive  his  discharge  from  the  Service.  Many 
and  varied  are  the  avowed  intentions  of  these  men. 

Many  have  already  made  plans  for  a  rousing  good 
time  to  be  had  on  the  money  saved  during  the  period 
spent  in  the  Army.  As  a  rule  these  men  are  ones 
whose  parents  are  living  and  are  keeping  the  home  in 
readiness  for  the  return  of  their  Hero.  They  expect 
their  soldier  boy  to  enjoy  a  few  weeks  of  rest  and 
in  a  way  it  is  nothing  more  than  his  due.  It  must  be 
considered,  however,  that  this  boy  has  a  home  await- 
ing his  return.  His  own  room,  his  own  bed.  Every- 
thing just  as  he  left  them  to  go  to  War  kept  neat 
and  tidy  by  a  Mother's  loving  hands.  This  soldier 
is  going  home  and  what  the  future  holds  forth  wor- 
ries him  not  a  particle. 

'Home,  That  word  to  me  has  always  conjured  up 
208 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  209 

pictures  of  a  long,  snowy,  cloth  covered  table.  A 
stout,  jolly  elderly  man  sits  at  the  head  of  that  table 
wielding  a  carv^er,  while  facing  him  at  the  other  end 
is  seated  a  smiling  comfortable  appearing  matron 
who  listens  to  the  chatter  of  her  brood  as  they  dis- 
cuss merrily  across  the  width  of  napery  the  happen- 
ings of  the  day.  When  the  meal  is  ended,  Father 
seeks  his  paper  and  an  easy  chair.  Mother  prepares 
to  hear  the  lessons  of  her  youngest  while  Big  Brother 
disappears  within  the  upper  regions  of  the  house  to 
don  his  most  attractive  tie  in  honour  of  a  certain 
charming  young  feminine  visitor  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. Sister  reclines  gracefully  in  a  wicker  chair  on 
the  vine  covered  porch  awaiting  the  appearance  of 
some  one  else's  Big  Brother. 

That  is  Home  to  return  to.  Father,  mother,  sister, 
brother,  and  there  might  be  a  sweetheart  just  across 
the  way. 

But  what  of  the  man  who  previous  to  entering 
the  Service  did  not  know  or  had  not  known  for 
many  years  the  real  meaning  of  the  word  home*? 
This  man  belonged  to  the  order  of  the  wandering 
foot.  North,  South,  East  and  West  had  he  drifted. 
Parents  dead  and  no  immediate  relatives,  or  at  least 
no  one  who  would  welcome  him  "Home"  and  make 
that  home  real  to  him. 


210  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

During  his  stay  overseas  his  longing  for  home  had 
grown  stronger  and  stronger  until  he  would  reiterate 
with  pathetic  emphasis  the  fact  that  "When  we  got 
Home,"  etc.  He  knew  then  down  deep  that  he  had 
no  home,  but  he  wanted  one  and  wanted  it  so  hard 
that  it  hurt. 

It  will  be  that  want  and  that  hurt  that  will  delude 
many  of  our  discharged  soldiers  to  accept  offers  of 
false  friendship  which  last  only  as  long  as  the  dol- 
lars do.  There  comes  the  critical  moment  in  his 
career  and  it  is  only  a  matter  of  a  few  days  before 
it  can  be  determined  whether  or  not  he  will  become 
a  useful  citizen  of  his  country,  a  worker,  a  home 
builder  and  the  father  of  sturdy  upstanding  young 
Americans. 

If  the  former  soldier  allows  the  "good  time"  idea 
to  predominate  in  his  mind  he  is  taking  great  chances 
of  "coming  to"  in  some  dive  down  Tenderloin  way 
without  a  dollar  in  his  pockets.  As  his  befuddled 
brain  strives  to  readjust  itself  he  will  have  those 
drowning  man  flashes  of  remembrances  of  what  he 
should  have  done.  The  new  civilian  clothes  he 
should  have  purchased.  The  position  he  was  to  have 
acquired.    Too  late. 

In  desperation  he  may  turn  to  the  Army,  dis- 
gusted with  himself,  every  one  else  and  with  life  in 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  211 

general.  In  that  condition  of  mind  he  would  hardly 
make  a  good  soldier.  So  his  career  is  entirely  spoiled. 

Judging  from  the  experiences  of  thousands  of 
soldiers  who  have  been  recently  discharged  in  the 
United  States  it  is  evident  that  the  first  step  after 
receiving  final  payments  and  bonus  money  should  be 
the  immediate  purchase  of  civilian  wearing  apparel. 
The  articles  do  not  necessarily  have  to  be  expensive 
for  as  long  as  they  are  neat  they  will  answer  the  pur- 
pose any  way  for  the  time  being.  Shoes  will  be 
another  important  item.  The  ex-soldier  could  not 
do  better  than  to  provide  himself  with  a  pair  or  two 
of  russet  or  (as  popularly  known  in  the  Army)  gar- 
rison shoes.  It  is  understood  that  these  shoes  may 
be  purchased  in  army  camps  at  about  $5.50  a  pair. 
They  shine  easily  and  really  present  a  very  nice 
appearance. 

The  next  step  is  to  locate  a  respectable  boarding 
house  and  there  pay  for  at  least  two  weeks'  board  and 
lodging.  There  is  nothing  that  will  give  a  man  more 
courage  when  tackling  a  strange  (and  it  will  seem 
strange)  proposition  than  the  knowledge  that  he  has 
a  meal  awaiting  him  and  a  place  to  lay  his  head 
after  a  hard  day.  Quite  naturally  many  men  will 
hesitate  at  parting  with  two  or  three  weeks'  board 
money  in  a  lump  sum,  especially  if  the  amount  of  his 


212  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

funds  is  low,  fearing  that  "a  fellow  can't  have  any 
fun  without  beaucoup  jack."  That  is  not  true. 

It  is  possible,  even  in  these  mercenary  times,  to 
find  a  boarding  place  conducted  by  a  Vv^oman  who 
really  has  the  interest  of  her  boarders  at  heart.  She 
will  welcome  the  returned  soldier,  not  particularly 
for  monetary  reasons,  but  because  she  may  have  a 
boy  of  her  own  and,  if  not,  had  always  longed  for 
one.  Every  one  in  the  house  will,  in  all  likelihood, 
try  to  make  things  pleasant  for  him  and  some  will 
be  in  a  position  to  help  in  many  ways  until  the 
stranger  gets  back  into  civilian  stride.  And  too,  there 
may  be  a  nice  girl  who  will  be  interested  in  hearing 
of  his  experiences.  It  will  not  be  expected  that  this 
should  develop  into  a  love  affair,  though  if  she  is  a 
real,  honest-to-goodness  girl,  and  he  has  become  able 
to  "stand  alone,"  there  are  far  worse  things  that 
could  befall  him. 

When  once  started  in  civilian  employment  it 
would  be  well  to  appreciate  the  fact  that  wages  or 
salaries  are  not  the  only  things  to  consider.  If  the 
work  is  unfamiliar,  the  former  fighter  will  not  be 
worth  much  to  his  employer  but  if  he  buckles  down 
to  it  and  sticks  to  it,  he  is  simply  bound  to  make 
good.  Once  that  feeling  is  acquired  that  *T  am 
making  myself  useful  to  my  employers  and  I  will  go 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  213 


through  with  this  just  as  we  did  over  there  no  matter 
how  hard  the  going,"  then  the  battle  is  fairly  won. 

Home — then  what'?  It  is  a  great  sporting  propo- 
sition if  one  cares  to  look  at  it  in  that  light.  To  go 
back  to  civilian  life  under  entirely  new  conditions. 
To  overcome  the  drawbacks  of  these  conditions.  To 
surmount  all  obstacles  and  carve  a  niche  for  oneself. 

The  first  experience  will  be  like  that  of  the  small 
boy  learning  to  swim,  a  plunge — a  gasp — then  fran- 
tic motions  of  feet  and  hands  to  the  result  of  much 
lost  labour  and  apparently  no  success.  It  is  not  long, 
however,  before  the  beginner  finds  himself  and  has 
little  or  no  trouble  keeping  on  top  and  making  good 
headway. 

After  the  first  plunge  into  civilian  life  and  the 
novelty  wears  away,  the  former  wanderer  will  un- 
doubtedly feel  the  urge  of  the  Wanderlust.  The 
desire  to  stroll  along  strange  by-ways  and  to  visit 
new  scenes  will  be  strong  upon  him.  A  sure  cure 
for  that  feeling  is  to  recall  the  hike  into  Germany. 
There  is  little  doubt  that  the  soft  white  bed  will 
seem  much  more  soft  and  desirable  to  the  ex-soldier 
that  night.  Stick-to-it-iveness  seems  to  be  the  key- 
note of  success.  The  soldier  well  knew  how  that 
quality  worked  during  the  war.  It  will  apply  just  as 
well  with  a  man's  own  personal  fight  for  the  good 


214^  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

things  of  life.  After  success  comes  the  possibility 
of  home.  A  home  of  your  own,  a  wife,  children. 
Can  a  man  ask  more'?  Home  and  then — it  is  up  to 
us. 


XXVII 

Sergeant,  Medical  Department. 

We  have  standardised  cars,  breakfast  foods,  text- 
books, styles,  hymns,  houses  and  ideas.  We  have 
got  to  be  careful  or  we  shall  before  long  find  our- 
selves standardised  men.  After  that,  a  long  fare- 
well to  any  life  worth  the  living.  Already  things 
have  come  to  such  a  pass  that  if  you  view  with 
jaundiced  eye  the  editorials  of  the  "Morning  Yel- 
low" you  are  regarded  with  alarm  by  your  friends. 
And  this  cried-up  standardisation  is  not  democracy, 
as  too  many  seem  to  think,  nor  even  a  distant  friend 
to  democracy.  It  is  in  fact  its  worst  enemy.  The 
substantial  hope  of  any  rule  by  the  people  is  always 
for  a  higher  and  higher  level  both  of  thinking  and  of 
living.  The  reassuring  thing  in  all  the  turmoil  is 
that  democracy  seems  to  rise  superior,  especially  at 
critical  moments,  to  the  mouthings  of  sloppy  senti- 
mentalists who  pose  as  the  friends  of  libert}'.  In 
spite  of  standardisation,  it  is  always  the  super-stand- 
ard men  who  exercise  the  ruling  influence,  the  indi- 
vidualities, never  the  crowd.    We  shall  get  on  better 

if  we  recognise  that  primar\^  fact.    Make  it  possible 

215 


216  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

to  multiply  the  few  men  in  America  who  really  save 
us  from  stagnation  by  a  hundred  or  a  thousand,  and 
you  can  move  the  world.    Ask  Wilson.    He  knows. 

As  to  what  happens  to  a  nation,  or  person,  that 
allows  itself  to  be  stultified,  cajoled,  bullied  into 
standardisation,  ask  Wilhelm,  Der  Zweite.  He 
knows.  .  .  . 

Two  years  in  the  army  should  have  made  some 
millions  of  Americans  a  bit  more  introspective,  more 
interested  in  all  sorts  of  things,  more  honest  with 
themselves  than  ever  before.  And  from  my  own  ob- 
servations I  should  say  it  has.  We  must — there  is 
no  escaping  the  imperative — we  must  take  accurate 
stock  of  our  minds  and  of  the  things  that,  surround- 
ing us,  are  part  of  ourselves.  That  means  throwing 
away  hypocrisy,  pretense  of  any  kind,  having  an 
eye  single  to  the  happiest  way  to  a  higher  plane  of 
life.  Not  because  it  is  higher  but  because  it  is  rea- 
sonably nearer  to  that  estate  of  freedom  of  spirit 
where  all  admirable  things  may  have  happy  issue  to 
the  light. 

More  directly:  How  are  you  going  to  free  the 
spirit  of  my  neighbour  who  sleeps,  not  considerately, 
but  too  well  o'nights,  is  the  father  of  four,  mows 
his  lawn  regularly  and  seems  altogether  a  decent  and 
contented  person? 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  217 

When  it  comes  to  thinking,  what  does  he  know 
about  the  exciting  interests  that  fairly  hum  in  the 
air  nowadays — woman  suffrage,  international  and 
home-grown  politics,  pictures,  books,  education,  mu- 
sic, capital  and  labour *?  Does  he  care  about  any  or 
all  of  them'?  Does  he  understand  as  he  should  that 
the  right  to  vote  in  a  republic  carries  with  it  as  many 
duties  as  it  does  privileges,  indeed  more  of  them*? 
Therefore,  he  must  concern  himself  with  these  mat- 
ters if  he  and  the  nation  are  to  count  in  this  eternal 
struggle  for  progress  that  we  are  always  talking 
about  so  glibly.  If  he  is  a  tired  business  man,  let 
him  become  familiar  with  the  notion  of  being  more 
tired.  If  he  is  not  interested  in  the  world  as  it  is, 
how  compel  him  to  be'?     That  is  the  question. 

Perhaps  he  is  a  little  too  prosperous  about  the 
waist-line  to  be  a  fit  subject  for  intensive  cultiva- 
tion of  spirit,  or  morale,  as  it  is  called  of  late.  The 
answer  is,  begin  not  on  the  father,  but  on  the  four 
he  has  fathered.  And  there  is  the  nearest  answer, 
nearest  in  point  of  practicability  to  most  "burning" 
questions — education. 

Education  is  almost  a  fetish  among  us  Americans. 
It  is  a  subject  on  which  you  can  always  get  a  hear- 
ing, and  also  many  responses.  There  lies  the  dif- 
ficulty.    There  are  too  many  cooks  to  produce  a 


218  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

strengthening  broth.  No  experiment  seems  too  silly 
to  be  tried,  somewhere,  on  some  unoffending  mem- 
bers of  the  newer  generation  if  only  the  sponsor  of 
the  "movement"  calls  his  nostrum  progressive. 
Methods  and  madness  are  near  allied.  What  though 
the  youngsters  can  neither  spell,  write  or  read  if  they 
can  dance  agreeably  about  the  May-pole  or  delineate 
whole  constellations  in  cut  paper.  Throw  mental 
discipline  to  the  dogs.  Few  people  really  believe 
in  the  eighteenth  century  dictum  that  all  men  are  cre- 
ated free  and  equal.  Biologically  impossible.  But  we 
may  presume  that  all  of  them  are  born  with  rudi- 
ments of  brains  of  some  sort.  The  best  approxima- 
tion, then,  to  the  ideal  is  to  give  them  free  and  equal 
opportunity.  There  is  insistent  need  of  this  in  a 
republic.  In  a  monarchy  a  certain  stratum  is  al- 
ways ready  and  more  than  willing  to  supply  head- 
liners  to  this,  that  or  the  other  service  of  the  State. 
It  keeps,  as  it  were,  stars  on  tap.  With  us  we  trust 
too  much  to  luck.  We  must  reduce  so  far  as  possible 
the  chances  for  disaster  by  tempting,  even  daring 
everybody  to  show  whether  he  has,  or  has  not,  some- 
thing valuable  in  him.  If  he  has  not,  he  will  at  least 
form  part  of  a  sound  foundation  for  the  more  showy 
towers  and  pinnacles. 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  219 

Is  it,  then,  to  be  a  different  America  when  we  get 
back,  or  the  same  as  before'?  Here's  to  the  newer, 
arising  America,  free  as  never  before,  intelligently 
aiming  at  the  stars;  unafraid  of  portentous  words 
and  pretentious  politicians;  afraid  of  hypocrisy  and 
ignorance ;  keen-eyed  before  her  own  defects,  no  less 
critical  of  Europe  and  Asia;  glad  in  health,  strength, 
sanity;  guarding  always  the  sacredness  of  her  own 
soul  which  is  also  that  of  all  her  men. 


SELECTED  EXTRACTS 
FROM  UNPUBLISHED  ESSAYS 

"What  greater  opportunity  have  we,  than  now 
to  instill  that  feeling  of  being  your  neighbour's  help- 
er and  help  preserve  the  unity  not  only  of  ourselves 
as  individuals  but  as  a  nation*?" 

"The  men  of  the  A.  E.  F.  must  pull  together  if 
the  future  generations  of  America  are  to  be  benefited 
by  our  efforts  and  trials  on  this  side  of  the  water.'' 

(A  soldier  whose  name  indicates  that  he  is  prob- 
ably a  Pole,  writes  a  letter  in  perfect  English  and 
excellent  penmanship  from  which  the  following  is 
a  brief  extract:) 

"The  only  school  I  had  in  America  was  a  night 
school  which  I  was  able  to  attend  two  years.  I  had 
six  years  of  public  school  in  Europe  but  that  is  alL 
Please  let  me  know  if  there  is  anything  wrong  about 
this  letter." 


220 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  221 

"I  have  Service  4  year  in  U  S  A  Army  and  I  want 
say  that  this  has  made  some  men.  Better  than  they 
ever  was  in  there  whole  life.  If  army  men  get  in 
trouble  it  His  own  fault  and  now  body  But  Him 
that  Cause." 

•  •  •  •  • 

'1  am  going  home  to  fight  for  better  schools  and 
churches." 

a  •  •  •  • 

"On  my  return  home  it  is  my  duty  to  help  raise 
the  morale  of  the  men  to  its  highest  standard  and 
to  co-operate  in  creating  good  will  and  fellowship 
toward  all,  and  I  will  use  my  influence  to  the  best 
of  my  ability  to  make  my  community  a  better  place 
to  live  in." 

«  •  •  •  • 

"This  great  war  has  woke  the  People  of  America 
up.  I  have  learned  a  good  deal  since  I  have  been 
in  France  and  I  would  never  want  to  see  America 
come  to  what  France  is  to-day." 

•  •  •  •  • 
"This  war  has  made  me  love  my  mother  more, 

and  is  making  me  restless  to  tell  the  folks  in  America 
the  lessons  I  have  learned." 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 


"Who  can  be  a  true  soldier  without  some  pride 
in  himself  and  his  fellowmen*?" 

•  •  •  •  • 

"Each  soldier  should  ever  be  mindful  that  in 
after-war  years  it  is  still  his  duty  to  his  God,  his 
country  and  himself  to  be  a  good  soldier,  helping 
each  and  all  as  he  did  when  he  was  upon  the  battle- 
field." 

•  •  •  •  • 

"Let  no  one  curse  Columbus  for  having  discovered 
America.  An  immigrant  is  a  guest  who  does  the  work 
we  don't  want  to  do  ourselves  or  want  done  by  our 
children.  We  should  be  grateful  to  him.  Either 
prevent  immigrants  from  coming  to  America  or  kill 
those  who  are  already  there  or  leave  them  alone  or 
educate  them  and  make  Americans  out  of  them. 
The  word  American  to  hostile  ignorant  foreigners  is 
not  sympathetic.  Comrade  is  the  word  that  they 
understand.  That  means  something  to  every  one." 
•  •  •  •  •  . 

"One  of  the  most  tragic  facts  about  the  war  is 
that  it  has  gone  on  in  Christendom.  The  picture  in 
the  2nd  Psalm  has  been  reversed.  The  African 
heathen  has  asked  'why  do  the  Christians  rage^' 
Wars  must  be  prevented  in  the  future  by  a  control 


HOME  — THEN  WHAT?  223 

f.  "^^^^^^^^ 

of  international  life  and  this  may  best  be  accom- 
plished through  a  'League  of  Nations.'  " 

"The  war  is  over.  But  is  war  over^  To  the  sol- 
dier who  is  inclined  to  farming  there  is  still  a  war 
between  man  and  the  insects;  to  the  soldier  who  is 
inclined  to  medicine  there  is  still  a  war  between  man 
and  disease;  to  the  soldier  who  is  inclined  to 
philanthropy  there  is  still  a  war  between  man  and 
ignorance;  to  the  soldier  who  is  inclined  to  preaching 
there  is  still  a  war  between  man  and  sin." 

"Higher  education  without  a  soul  is  more  than  a 
farce — it  is  a  very  'sorceress  of  Hell'  itself.  We 
must  get  away  from  German  ideas  of  education  be- 
cause education  must  become  synonymous  with 
civilisation.  That  may  appear  simply  a  personal 
statement,  but  I  assure  you  it  is  the  opinion  of  most 
of  our  boys." 

"If  we  allow  the  subtle  teachings  of  'Kultur'  to 
influence  our  minds  we  shall  at  last  come  to  the  place 
where  we  do  not  know  what  we  believe,  nor  believe 
what  we  know — a  condition  of  despair  closely  akin 
to  the  divine  madness  which  began  the  war." 


224  HOME  — THEN  WHAT? 

"We  have  seen  a  Nation  stampeded  by  lies  and 
propaganda,  and  we  are  for  universal  truth." 

"Home  means  that  Heaven  hallowed  spot  where 
is  the  family  hearth  be  it  where  the  spreading  mead- 
ows and  trickling  brook  delight  the  eye  and  enlarge 
the  soul,  or  where  is  that  snug  little  bungalow  by 
the  side  of  the  street  where  the  children  of  men  go 
by.  The  first  place  that  we  will  begin  our  work  is 
at  home  and  rightly  so,  for  the  home  is  the  founda- 
tion of  our  whole  social  and  political  system.  Those 
of  us  who  have  not  homes  of  our  own,  expect  to 
have  some  day  and  we  do  not  expect  that  some  day 
to  be  very  far  off  in  many  cases.  And  let  me  whis- 
per a  secret;  the  boys  of  the  A.E.F.  do  not  have  any 
conception  of  a  real  happy  home  without  there  being 
children  there." 

"We  can  but  answer  to  our  comrades  who  lie 
'where  poppies  grow'  the  good  arm  of  American 
youth  shall  forge  a  link  with  the  hammer  of  comrade- 
ship, and  of  the  anvil  of  justice  and  fair  play,  a  link 
whose  strength  shall  not  break  faith  with  the  cause 
for  which  they  gave  themselves  a  sacrifice,  and  a  link 
whose  workmanship  shall  stand  the  criticism  of  the 
artist  Tim.e." 


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